The Making of Royalty

She’s just a simple creature undergoing metamorphosis. She’s just a simple little girl ready to make her dreams come true. Rough fingers pull at her strings, tighter the corset must be in order to truly emphasize her beauty. Dress slipped on nice and snug, ending at the knee with no straps; her skin glows majestically. It starts as bright red and then bleeds into baby blue, then cuts to a blinding white shield at her waist. The colors fade through gray and end at black Snow white stockings to match her skin and bright blue heels making her a perfect height. Those hands again paint her face, her lips crimson and her eyelids blue Her eyes flash open impatient to see herself, irises the same color as the eye shadow. Those fingers tug at her hair, willing it to obey, the curly red locks resisting slightly -- they tie a blue bow in it but leave the hair loose. She stands and twirls, her dress flying around her; the contrasts in colors tell her secrets. She finally gets to look into the mirror -- her transformation is complete. She is speechless in seeing her incomparable beauty. She finds her prince, who places a promise upon her forehead; a promise of an unwavering love They arrive to the ball of royalty A garden scene just past twilight Lights hang in the air like fireflies This night guarantees magic And then she knows this is her reality