I threw the weapon to the floor;
the world was once again the same.
"What sort of vile trick is this?
What a sick and twisted game!
Are you amused at my discomfort?
Does it quench your boredom's flame?"
I had more to say to him,
but despair had wracked my frame.
How could my winter be this death?
Such a fate for one so tame...
And the way that I had spoken!
My heart was filled with shame.
"If this is some deception,
I'll send you back from whence you came,
with your rumpled, stilted, skin,
left in the field for crow to claim!"

Rumpelstiltskin let me finish.
My tirade and my disdain
had taken toll upon the beast,
whose face showed only pain.

"Please, my prince," he said.
"You need only say my name,
and if you know it to be true,
then my form I will regain.
Use the mirror that I made
from the love that you contain,
and you will see I do not lie.
The truth will be made plain."

I did not come this far,
just to argue, doubt, and stall.
I placed the mirror on the mantle,
and its power I did call.

"Mirror, mirror, on the wall,
where lies the fairest of them all?
Raven hair, and softest lips,
adorn the face I long to kiss.
Gentle mind, and gentle touch,
gentle heart, and beauty such,
that to live without its grace,
is to beg for death's embrace.
Heart in hand," I glanced at sword,
"And tears upon my face,
I beg this mercy of you, mirror,
Where is my wife? Show me the place!"