The Princess without a savior,
Is the only self-sufficient woman,
Who will breach the keep’s walls,
Slay the menacing dragon,
To attain her independence from,
The lout prince charming.
He inevitably died,
From the shock,
Of finding his princess,
A dominating brute.
And so he ran leaving the scene,
For fear of becoming submissive.
For what is the man among men,
If he wears the dresses, makeup,
And dreams of frivolousness.
What would the princess now do,
Dominate the world?
Enslave the other?
Whilst drinking sugarplum tea,
And dainty nom noms.
Name be changed from soft femininity,
To compliment the harsh monochrome of masculinity.
From Belle to Butch,
Or a Maryanne to Marcus.
Oh how the sadness of being soft,
And this softness be turned to steel.
From ice to water,
Like warm quiet rebellion,
The upheaval of roles given and dispersed,
Roles changeable but unavoidable,
For it catches up to the holder.
For the honeybee never is able to resist,
The flower’s sweet seductive nectar.
The knowledge used to resist temptation,
Is wholly futile,
For when death comes,
Just the dirt at one’s toes,
And the gradual return,
To become one with it once more.
Creative property of Dawn (Wildcinderella)