An Ode to Perrault

I.

Let me take you to a place and tell you of a story,

Not a tale of love or a tale of glory.

There will be no hope, no happiness, no laughter,

You will not find the happily-ever-after.

This tale is to shock, to consider, to forewarn,

Please do not cry, do not shudder, do not mourn.

Come travel now to a far-away land

And allow me to introduce you to our leading man…

II.

A prince by birth, he became a king

Much too young, one day in the spring.

His father killed off, the kingdom un-reigned 

His mother waged war, she could not be constrained.

Unable to rule with a child by her side

But she wanted him safe, not cast aside.

He was left with a witch, a sorceress, a fairy

Who lived far from the kingdom, down by the quarry.

She treated him like a gift, a treasure, a prize

And before long she began to devise

A plan to make herself his bride

Then control the kingdom which she vied.

When he came of age she would take the chance

Cast over him a spell, put him in a trance.

But the prince was no fool, he knew of her greed

He would not be cheated, would not be deceived.

Angered and scorned she placed on him a curse

A beard of bright blue that came with much worse.

To rid of this feature, one mere task must be done

Slay a young girl, his hell had begun.

With each passing year, one must die

His compulsion to obey he could not deny.

But his need to kill soon became a desire

The rest of the tale will begin to transpire…

III.

Across a land that creates sublime

Feelings and thoughts, there has been a crime.

Or two or three, there is no keeping track.

The horrors committed rival that of Jack.

Years ago when the man was new

The town desired to know what was true.

He was from old-money, no a self-made man

He was a saint, no a part of the Klan.

Would he be handsome, would he be kind?

Could he be cruel? What would they find?

The old manor was his, standing alone on the hill

Its appearance brought a dread, a certain chill.

Abandoned for decades but hosting once more,

It was difficult to look and not to abhor.

Weeks and weeks without so much as a glance

The people thought they would never have the chance,

To see this new man and all the allure he evoked

Should they prod him, should they provoke?

IV.

A sign from above the letters arrived

The hope of the people now revived.

Each townsperson received an invitation

But they must wear a mask, creating new frustration.

A strange request but allowing a sight

Of the new man in town, if for only one night.

A ball at the manor was a curious event

No one knew exactly what it meant.

Donned in masks, they entered through the grand door

The inner beauty was something they could not ignore.

Shock and awe stuck on their faces

Barely able to move from their places.

Something like a palace, the house was impressive,

Not a single person mentioned it was quite excessive.

Effortlessly ascending to the first floor

The staircase was decorated in gold décor.

Ornate banisters and reclining cupids of marble

Appeared as if they would begin to warble.

And before them stood the imposing main hall

Arched windows and gilded stucco decorated the wall.

A slight look upward, they couldn’t take their eyes away

From the monumental fresco of Christ’s last day.

To the left the dining room beckoned and teased

Equally luxurious but its grandeur somewhat eased

With the presence of a mirror colored white and blue

In the shape of an egg and slightly askew.

To the right loomed the ballroom, how could one describe

Something so intricate, so colorful, so alive?

Before they could speak, attendants arrived

Laying out delicacies, nothing were they deprived.

The splendor of the house caught them in a trance

They were filled with elation and a certain romance.

V.

He gazed down in silence, breathing them in

The night had begun, he was ready to sin.

Quite a time had passed since he last lost his way

But it was starting to show, one must die today.

He had grown sick of his method time after time

Throwing a ball was the ideal crime.

He was done with the trickery, they all disobeyed.

Their predictability was insulting, he no longer forbade

Their entrance into his chamber, where the others lay slayed.

Now he could feel their fear, see them afraid.

VI.

The witching hour neared and he finally he saw

Her bewitching beauty that lacked any flaw.

Skin white as snow, hair dark as night

Lips red as blood, sweetness and light.

The mask returned to her face, wanting to hide

But he had made his choice, he would not be denied.

Enchanted by his wealth, his charisma, he mystique

She followed him out the door, not a word did he speak.

Back through the garden he led her in silence

It would be quick, he had no need for great violence.

They walked a great distance, to the edge of the estate

It was time to kill, he could no longer wait.

She inquired about his looks, what was hidden beneath the mask

He would grant her this before completing his task.

Revealing his face, she knew something was wrong

But it was too late, she would be gone before long.

Shocked by his appearance she uttered a scream

But no one would hear, it was all part of his scheme.

Quick and neatly, the dagger went through her heart

He saw the light leave her eyes and her soul depart.

Picking her up he brought her to the small chalet

Carried her through the door to where the others lay.

An exhausting ordeal that he must complete

He must return to the party, remain discreet.

Another one claimed, it was a shame they had to go

He stood stroking his beard, the blue hue would no longer show.

VII.

Another five decades, his wrongdoings went on

Until he lay on his deathbed, he could no longer con.

A knock on the door was a curious event,

He wanted no visitors, no priest to repent.

Then came the footsteps, his visitor did not abide

To his calling out to return outside.

As the door swung away he could not understand

It was the women he had scorned with a key in her hand.

This could not be true, he had thought her dead

After leaving him to suffer, to be punished, to dread.

She approached him slowly, a gleam in her eyes

Pleased with her work, seeing his slow demise.

She did not speak long, few words did she scoff

“All you ever had to do, was just cut it off.”