Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Nov 2017
I was awakened
from my dream,
chased away
by dying screams.
****** scenes
filled my head
until it bursted at the seams.
I lay upon my bed,
sunlight pouring through the screens,
Rumpelstiltskin looming over:
the example of serene.

"Mr. Prince, you're awake,
and unharmed, as you can see."
Said the mountain of corruption
that towered over me.
"We shared a little piece
of what makes us both unique.
You saw gutted, sloppy, ******,
with an underlying greed.
Deprivation, destitution,
the ******* lies beneath:
This putrefaction on the outside
reflects the horrors I have seen."
The beast again looked hurt,
then his face was wiped clean.
"While you recovered,
while you slumbered,
I have crafted you this thing.
It will take you to the brightest.
It will lead you to The Queen,
but you decide when you arrive
how you further will proceed,
when you gaze upon her face,
and you wish for it to bleed."

From behind his twisted back,
appeared a mirror lain with gold.
Rose and thorn and stem
adorned the filigree of its mold.
The glass of the mystery
showed depths I leave untold,
and the handle in my grip
felt of ice, it was so cold.

"Before I leave you to your quest,
be warned, I hold your heart in thrall.
A little piece of you to keep,
a price to pay so very small.
When your objective do you seek,
Ask the mirror. That is all:
Place it high upon the mantle,
and its magic you will call."

I did as he instructed,
and I summoned up my gall.
"Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
where's the brightest one of all?
The burning flame, spells unclean,
I seek to find the evil queen.
The people fear her blackened hand,
whose shadow darkens all the land,
and so to seek this darkest night,
I must find this brightest light."

The mirror seemed to grow, and swell,
and shrink, and twist, and glow as well.
It seemed as though a cosmic veil
was thrown aside, and truth prevailed.
Bryan
Written by
Bryan  38/M/KY
(38/M/KY)   
  767
     vb, Bryan and ---
Please log in to view and add comments on poems