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Once upon a winter day,
something strayed from ordinary.
The snow was extra pure,
like the rosy skin of a virgin.
It sprinkled to the ground
as if the heaven's were throwing confetti.
Behind a large mound of snow,
a black framed window stood.
Through the open window,
a queen sat to sew.
As the snow blew around,
like a massive white sandstorm,
the poor queen pricked her finger.
Her dark eyes studied
as three drops of blood sunk
into the fluff of the winter crystals.
How beautiful it looked to her,
she thought to herself,
"If only I gave birth to a child
as white as snow,
as red as blood,
and as black as
the wood of my window frame!"


The queen's sudden death,
occurred upon the bearing,
of a magnificent baby girl.
Like a creature of Eden,
her skin as white as snow,
her lips as red as blood,
with hair as black as the wood
of the window frame.
Equaling her beauty,
she was to be called Snow White.
Each strand of her black hair
played concertly upon the sun,
like a celestial played string
of a prime violin.
Not a person in the kingdom
felt worthy to observe her arÍte.
Each day that went by
concluded just one more thing
on this captivating creature.

The sun journeyed around the globe
once before the king
crowned his beautiful new queen.
A woman of a luxurious shell
but a heart that was burnt.
She suffered from age,
fountain of youth running low.
Yet disdainful and haughty,
no beauty could surpass her own.
The mirror on her wall,
her most trusted crony,
was her morning converse.
She'd inquire,
"Mirror Mirror, on the wall,
who's the fairest of us all?"

And he never would fib,
he'd retort to her,
"Dear queen, you are
the fairest of us all."

Superbity in this hag
only became more whole.

As if the world transplaced,
one sunup the mirror frowned,
he replied,
"You are the fairest in the hall
but Snow White is the fairest
of us all."

Her eyes transformed from brown
to green, her veins popped out,
embarked a twinge in her chest.
Lucky for her looking glass,
her only means of counsel,
or else she would have forthwith
shattered her own reflection.
Hands of the clock went 'round,
her envy ran through her blood,
quicker than red wine.
The seed of hate grew
with the strength of an oak tree.
No longer could the queen
endure this sort of pain.

She decided Snow White's fate,
death by her heartless hunter.
"Take her into the forest,"
she ordered,
"And bring me
her heart for supper!"

Snow White's chaste
even fused the ice
of the hunter.
Redeemed from her chains, she dashed,
while the queen feasted
upon the heart of a boar.
Shade returned to her skin
as in her maleficent mind
she was once again
the fairest.

The child remained solitary
for weeks upon weeks.
The distress of living wild
made her beauty cultivate.
Even the wild beasts,
the agrarian wolves,
and the miscreations of the swamp,
spared her unfledged heart.
Drifting aimlessly,
she finally ended at a
small cottage far into the woods.
She let herself in,
to find everything times seven.
She felt as if she was stuck
in a parallel universe thatís size
was divided by seven.
Eventually, her body found
the seventh bed and she
rested herself down to dream.

The little men returned home,
following a hi-ho day at work.
Found her fast asleep,
a beam crept upon them.
They observed her sleeping body
as if she were an exotic
enigma to be solved.
Ambushed by her admirers,
she awoke, a tad raddled.
They learned of her stepmother,
and granted her to stay.
Only on one condition,
they impetuously explained,
"Your stepmother will
soon know that
you are here,"

They warned,
"Do not open the door
for anyone,
if we are not here."

With every intention to follow,
she solemnly agreed.

And as the dwarfs thought,
the mirror expressed to her,
Snow White's whereabouts.
Devouring her psyche,
threshing her depraved heart.
The most devilry,
have the most flair,
she once again set out to
slay the virtuous child.
A warm Spring day arrived,
the queen twisted to a peasant.
Strolled by the cottage, did she,
claiming to sell beautiful lace.
Snow White's only flaw
came out that day,
her indulgence to all.
Agreeing to buy lace,
the queen laced her bodice,
stealing Snow White's breath.
A loud bang was heard,
as Snow White fell like dead.

Her friends came back
as her time was almost
overdue.
As quick as dawn,
the bodice slacked.
Her breath returned
as did her dusky rose cheeks.
Once again her cheery self,
the dwarves restated their warning.
that the queen-witch would
try again.
Sure enough, in the castle halls,
the looking glass was approached.
The mirror once again frowned,
"Lovely Queen, you are the fairest
in the hall,
but Snow White is the fairest
of us all!"

Shrieking with anger,
her mind-wheels turned.
She knew Snow White's weakness,
Snow White was too soft.
A poisonous comb,
would tempt her enough.

As the queen approached,
disguised as an old lady,
the door opening was refused.
Using her smarts,
the queen said,
"You don't have to open
the door, but surely,
you can take a look."

Ignorantly, Snow White
did not question the woman's
goodness.
Buying the comb, the queen
brushed Snow White's
unblemished black hair.
Hard for her to cloak
her disgust for the child,
she turned her head,
and hacked the comb
to her impeccable skull.
A single touch to the head,
Snow White's face went blank,
once again toppling over,
to her spot on the floor.
Crackling to herself,
the queen scampered off.

The dwarves sadness showed,
discovering her body.
Using their smarts,
like detectives they searched.
Finding the comb,
they pulled it out,
causing an astonishing revival.
Regaining composure,
she explained what happened.
Like seven father's,
the dwarves feared her life.
Up to no good,
the queen greeted her mirror.
He told her the truth,
she sprang over the edge in angst.
This time,
there'd be no second chance.
Determination overcame all,
even if it meant her own life.
An unstoppable phenomenon,
the poisonous apple.

Snow White watched this Spring morning,
flowers bloomed all around.
Animals played their natural parts
and the sun had a sweet feel.
A farmer's wife walked through the grass,
enjoying the tickle to her toes.
Red apples overflowed her basket
like a flooded dam.
Approaching the house,
Snow White said through the window,
"You may as well not even try,
I cannot buy anything from you."

The wicked queen smiled warmly,
"Well, here, I will just give it
to you, dear,"
she tried.
Snow White shook her head
in fear.
"Are you scared of poison? Look,
I will take one bite of it too."

The queen was slick,
the poison secluded,
for it only stained the red,
the white, harmless.
Since the lady ate her piece,
Snow White gave in.
Like a shot of death,
the first bite was the last.
Grim Weeper took his scythe,
impaling her lovely heart,
grabbed the queen's hand,
and congratulated her.

This time, the mirror made her day,
"Dear Queen, you are the fairest
of us all."

Her mind was at ease,
her conquest was complete,
Snow White's soul was not.
The dwarves were stunned,
confound, befuddled.
No bodice to untie,
no comb to take out,
not water nor wine,
could awaken her.
Without a beat in her heart,
she remained untouched.
Words still could not describe
the beauty she possessed.
Her majesty invaded
a woman of no flaw.
Through water eyes,
the dwarves couldn't bare
to bury this empyrean.
Never to cease her bliss,
so she could see her own reflection,
they created a glass coffin,
to place her on top of the ever known
hill, a warped temple.

Her body in deep slumber,
left all to be bereft.
Words couldn't construe
this tragedy, calamity,
this woe.
Dwarves mourned their love,
in the still of the day,
the frigid dimmet,
and the shadowy night.
Until one fine sunrise,
a prince strolled along.
One gleam of her face,
hushed him to inhale
such that's seldom discerned.
Pinching himself,
to awaken from this lucid dream,
he blinked a thousand times,
and asked of her decease.
Love at first sight,
he worshipped her.
He wouldn't confine her mode.
If she could not join him,
he'd be damned,
an immortal blight.

In an instant,
her glass cuff was lifted.
The dwarves observed,
their thoughts disbelieving.
He watched her sleep
while demanding an answer.
Leaning into her lips,
he joined her with his own.
As if the skies had obliged,
the apple disgorged.
Who would have thought,
that his kiss was her remedy?
All who watched grew astonished,
her eyes unclosed with will.
Her first vision was he.
As if in her own bubble,
she had to squint.
She instantly grew fond
as if she'd known him,
in a lifetime before.
He took her to his castle,
where they would be wed.

Her wedding went on
with brilliancy and splendor,
though her sinful stepmother
was invited.
She went to her mirror,
and asked it her norm,
she grew livid when it answered,
"You are the fairest in the hall
but the new queen is the fairest
of us all!"

Her preternatural ire
grew into a mammoth,
and Satan claimed her
as his child.
With rage, she would have to see,
this claiming aphrodisiac.

Upon her arrival, Snow White stood,
the queen was nearly offed
from her amount of surprise.
Her soul became crippled,
shriveled in umber.
She couldn't dance before
she noticed the burning
of the iron slippers,
that dressed her feet.
She was sentenced to shuffle
til' the coming of death,
surrounded by burning air,
peering into her shriveled
reflection, as Hell gleefully
escorted her down.

The winds were calm and
the angels at rest.
All burdens were broken,
no more tears were shed.
No more mourning,
no more pain,
misery closed its curtain.
Bells would always chime
for all to live inside their dream.
All hearts were speaking fondly,
all minds were at last
at ease.
They'd dance in welkin's courtyard,
while the end still lived distant.
They knew nothing else
than this painting of gladness,
all prayers were answered,
while their only sentence was,
to live happily ever after.


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