The Pathetic Princess

A twisted Fairy Tale.

We Tangoed in the dark,
My Knight and I.
How was he supposed to know I wasn’t a Princess he deemed worthy of his Kingdom?
How was he supposed to know that my Passion outweighed my Karats?
He tasted me wild, sucked the essence out of my spirit,
Then left me.
Hollow. Used. Empty.
I lay lifeless on the ground outside the Castle Walls as dusk approached.
“I’m sorry, Gypsy Lady, you cannot enter here,”
Said the Gatesman.
He had the saddest look in his eyes.
I could tell he wanted to help,
But as blood and sweat ran down my legs,
There was nothing else he could say.
He could do nothing but turn away.

I wandered aimlessly amid the rabid wolves and vultures.
Even the beasts were always a step behind,
Too scared I would tear them apart.
My Prince could not keep up with me;
I was untamable.
“What a Pity! What Potential they had!”
Miles away, I could hear the fat hens cackling in their comfy coops.
I could not return to my village.
I was shunned by the Hierarchy and rejected women burned for their sins.
In a river near the outskirts, I washed my red-stained purple linens,
Tattered and frayed.
The life sustaining fabric mocked my every move.
I considered freezing to death instead of enduring the taunting any longer,
But whether it be in life or death, the deep violet would testify on my skin.
There was no way to win, in beginning or in end.

I settled with a group of Vagabonds,
Trading desire for food and keep,
My heart too dead to notice.
Friars dressed as neighboring Knights fooled me at each midnight rendezvous.
I hid from my actions beneath my woolskin blankets.
But with each sunrise arose each atrocity, each lie I could not escape.
My Knight was long gone; My Prince was nowhere to be found.
I cast black magic spells across the East to bring him swiftly and quietly to me.
But my half-hearted incantations brought only despair.
My whispered pleas hung unanswered in the air.

Dancing in the pale moonlight and dying embers one night,
I prayed to The Gods and Goddesses of my ancestors,
Begging them to transform me into Icarus Incarnate.
Out cried my Swan Song.
And when the sun blew fire across the sky for the final time,
I knew my earthbound existence was through
As I and my heart of waxen wings Flew.

Reviews

[Zeitgeist Manifesto]

Epic!

[Nathan Noble]

i agree this was a great write. very well written and flows wonderfully with great imagery. awesome work. ill definately read more of your work.

[Purple Emo Angel Of Lov..]

I like this a lot... It is totally a twisted fairy tale. And i like how a dark and eery glopom falls upon the main character aftr the first paragraph... I havent read any of your others pieces yet, but i think you have potential to be a pro writer.