The Transformation of the Beast

Sun, 08/13/2017 - 02:35 -- ktwele

Cacophony rose into the air one stormy summer day.

Twas the prince’s masquerade ball, a bombastic soiree.


Envisage this reception, a fulgent affair,

With jewels of all kinds encrusting ladies’ hair.


The halls of the kingdom were filled with the elite,

All reticent behind their visages, making up a masked fleet.


The prince himself dazzled, flawless as the seraphim,

Emulating the pulchritude of the kingdom that surrounded him.


Festivities were halted when turmoil erupted on the dancefloor.

Shattering the equipoise, a woman walked through the castle door.


At the this banausic intrusion, the prince felt quite a dudgeon.

As though she was forcing the mundane onto his quixotic celebration.


With gravitas in spite of her dilapidated appearance,

She gorgonized the guests and moved as though in a dance.


The woman proceeded to ask for shelter from the storm,

Suggesting a bed and food to keep her warm.


Finding it despicable to think such generosity would be entertained,

In his reply, the prince was caustic and filled with disdain:


“I’ll say this in the vernacular so you have a chance to understand,

You should go find a crowd who matches the social level on which you stand.”


Not to be deterred, the woman was adamant in her claims.

She persisted in requesting protection from the rain.


With her second proposal, she offered a warning,

Claiming to be a wizard who could bring the kingdom great mourning.


The witch’s words cast gloom over the grandiloquent affair;

Each party guest uneasy, a fantod feeling in the air.


The mask that the prince wore must have made him nearsighted.

Such a myopic ruler, he could not stand feeling slighted.


“Your words are naught but humbuggery,” is what the man shouted,

“Codswallop, nonsense, your powers here are doubted.”


An attendant crept up, offering blandishment to the prince’s ear.

Solicitously steering him to caution, so for their lives he did fear.


“O Sir, with this one hag, perhaps we should play nice.”

The prince did not waffle, nor did he heed the man’s advice.


With petulance, he cried out, “We will not feed her schadenfreude.”

The prince cajoled the band to play and bring back the roistering mood.


The insular prince did not know what he’d done.

His words condemned every person at the party, save for one.


At his exclamation, the woman lifted her arms in a flourish,

And in a concinnity of colors, her uncouth appearance perished.


Her troglodytical look was evidently ephemeral,

As her true form was revealed through a process automagical.


Where the woman once stood there rose an imposing enchantress,

And with a flick of her wrists she cast a spell like this:


“For the rest of your days I confine you to this structure,

Until you meet another who causes your heart to flutter.


Confined and alone, the castle window will forever frame your view,

With only anthropogenic attendants to keep company and serve you.


Monotonous and dull, so each of your days shall be numbered,

Enervated until your love is returned by another.”


The phantasm of the sorceress absquatulated over the castle gates.

With her clandestine deed done, she left the inhabitants to their fate.


The prince’s mask molded to his features and his world went cattywampus.

The new face the man held reflected a heart that was monstrous.


Incredulous, the prince looked all around at his previously beautiful guests.

Once aloof, they now could only be called household appliances at best.


A teapot, a cup, a candlestick, a clock.

This is what had become of the prince’s once elite stock.


From this story, take heed, take it soon.

Learn a lesson from another’s greed and become not blinded by the jejune.