Rapunzel, Rapunzel

This one doesn't seem to flow as well as the others but in retrospect I think certain parts fit well with the original style...

Away the two women sped,
Across the lush, wooded land.
Into the forest she was lead,
Feet astumbling, rope in hand.

Her rescuer did not stop until
The Queen of Hearts would not pursue.
They rested together by a rill
And spoke a moment, these two.

The rope she held was really a braid,
A mile long it seemed to be.
This Rapunzel had given her aid
Now together they would both flee,

Solace they sought in a town of decay,
Not a single soul was to be seen.
Rapunzel crept as low as she may.
Beyond the cottages a horrible scene.

Before a tower tall as the sky,
Cauldron aburning, knife in hand.
Words acalling, bodies piled high,
Stood a witch amidst her demonic band.

Tears poured over Rapunzel's gentle face
At the sight of a bloody pike.
Upon it a head had found it's place.
Terror in her heart did strike.

The prince she loved oh so dear
In returning to her rescue was slain.
The persecutor was far beyond clear
And so she attacked but twas in vain.

Alice in horror stood witness
As the knife tore her delicate skin.
Her hair the witch did caress
As though she'd committed not a sin.

Up the stairs poor Rapunzel was dragged
By her braid in the witch's iron grip.
In the topmost room the girl was gagged
And from her head the braid she did rip.

The entwined strands over fingers did flow.
To the window she was pushed, blood upon silvery gown.
In the moonlight, skin aglow,
Her gentle face but a bitter frown.

The braid she tied about her neck so white
And down she pushed her without a glance.
She fell through the cold air of a loveless night
As Alice stared in a paralyzing trance.

The braid snapped tight under the maiden's weight.
Her body swung to and fro in the wind.
The sound of breaking bones worsened her state.
To her knees Alice did bend.

Sobbing and screaming, her presence was found out.
The demons turned and for her arms did reach.
She would die as well this night, no doubt,
But for her life a small voice did beseech.

In instinct the small hand she did take
And away with the red-clad girl she ran.
As she fled her heart did break.
She couldn't think, had no aim or plan.