In the depths of the misty moor
Stands a castle from ancient lore
Shrouded by the tangible night
Stars hang emitting crystal light
Barn owls chase shrews and mice to kill
Across the rolling Exmoor hills
The castle built from local stone
Is enchanted with the winds’ moan
This castle has no space for time
It’s the elements greatest crime
Centuries pass all unknown
Yet see how the ivy has grown
Laying on the dungeons cold floor
A girl holds no key for the door
Thrown in there by her misery
Now she’ll cry till she finds the key
History of blood and bandages
Haunt her dreams at the fringes
In the tower a prince is found
Loneliness is what keeps him bound
To the castle, to the tower
Every single hour, tastes sour
His past wisps like the dusty wind
What he did – could it be a sin?
Constance knows the prince will save her
From the fearsome dragon, he’ll lure
The beast away, break the bars
And take her to see the stars
As hills become veiled in darkness,
Alluring music is played
On a grand piano by the prince,
This keeps the princess hoping
Every note played silences the pain from the chains
Which bind her wrists and fists
They are manacles for imprisonment,
The lock, a gaping hole, there lies
A fire, restricted, silenced
Chains of spears burn through her thoughts
Dissolution runs through her veins
Her logic has crumbled and cracked
With the rising of many suns
She hears him on the cobbled steps
She weeps, must have slain the dragon.
Infatuation at first sight
Their bourbon eyes interlock
Transfixed.
Forgetting time, in time
Biting her lip she smiles
He breaks the bars, but he does not
Take her to see the stars
She sees the verity before her
A chilling beautiful monster
No eyes does his face hold
Or anything she ever knew
Just a frozen heart with ivory fangs
And a lurid face torn apart
She sees the awful reality
And hears the testing truth
Never again will she be chained
And never again she be pained
Her silk screams are in unison
Echoing from the high tower
The monster crying in the night
Finishes her off in a fright
Beating her to her bones
Till she falls with a thud
He wants to shred her more
But only to see more blood
Her skeleton, abandoned
On the floor that now wears her flesh
And death she now wears
As if in blessed matrimony
Constance died of a broken heart
Her melancholia is always
In the castle, every hour.
While that miscreant of Mother Nature
Winds along the dusty tunnel,
His thoughts flicker back to Constance
And his eyes turn misty in a howl,
For she is now an angels’ hymn
Jenna Grabey © 2011. All Rights Reserved.