Chapter Text
Beauty (noun):
A thing of decay and sorrow
Example:
Brought into this world,
Chaos shall unfurl
For unfortunate girl
Decked in her pearls
Fire burns to the brim,
Hear gunshots of him
Her father, dying thin
Starving from within.
Poor girl cries herself to sleep,
Awakes with nothing to keep.
No sow or crop to tend to and reap.
Her legs not hers, unable to leap.
She cries and cries, she grew up and old,
Her love in Venice died, as we’re told.
Couldn’t be saved from a heart of gold.
She cries and cries as the heads still roll.
She’s told over and over, again and again.
“At least you’re divine, give life a chance.”
What has she left to say? What then?
When the men come to capture their wren?
Yes, the wren is her, she sings her song.
But no one even wants to hear all along.
Everyone claims they want to right wrongs.
If they did, they’d give her wings that are long
So she can fly away, away, into the sky.
Away from the burden and sharp knives.
Scars may be healed up there, oh so high
The gates are locked… until she should die.