The Queen’s Tale

Originally I wrote this as an experiement, here,

However, Cendrine Marrouat (You can read and see her wonderful work here) suggested that it might work better as verse,. I'd be really interested to know which you prefer. Or even if you hate both equally. Fine too. It was an experiement after all - and I never have to play with language periods again!

Here it is:

If truly thou dost wish to know,

Stay but, if feigned - be thy foe.

For falsehoods, I ear not to hear.

Most hearts are thus, and time’st so dear,

Stay or depart, the choice is thine,

But if thou go’st, thus heed this line:

I am guilty not of that speken deed,

Though rumours spring like noxious weed.

And so, it is thus

Many moons ago, cold and stark,

In winter's grip and shadow dark,

I, a maiden, green and young,

To Blizzard’s sire, I be firmly flung.

Society’s glare, so cold, so slight,

For maidens in such hapless plight.

My father made it become, and so I be wed,

Under duress, my freedom shred.

In the castle's hall, vows exchang’d,

Alas! all be awry, and I estrang’d.

Mother wept, father turned away,

Their judgment clear, they’d no more say.

A child, in me, did not long dwell,

Its but fleeting wings, my secret hell.

Blizzard, young as I, held no love,

For the stepmother from heavens above.

In another realm, we may be friends,

But here, our tale sadly ends.

Her beauty, true, dids’t shine so bright,

Yet her heart hid in endless night.

Silver and gold, finery rare,

Yet none could quell my deep despair.

The king, a stranger, barely seen,

Courtiers' whispers, cruel and mean.

Surrounded by riches, I felt below,

What is gold, when sorrow's all to know?

Seeking solace, I turned to books,

In their embrace, I found new nooks.

The silent castle, in night's cold grip,

Yet, by moonlight, words from my lips did slip.

In writing, solace, in shadows, peace,

Until one night, all did cease.

A sunset red, a moonlit glade,

Beneath the oak, a dark charade.

Blizzard's form, and shadow man did meld,

Who he was, my heart couldn’t tell.

Yet when our eyes did meet and lock,

I felt the world in a terrible shock.

Of the mirror, tales are wrongly spun,

It my friend be, when I had none.

Yet isolation takes its toll,

Warpen the mind, devouren whole.

Then came an accusation, dire and bleak,

Leaving me weak, and unablen to speak.

Body found not, yet tales did grow,

Of evil queen, apples, gobelins and woe.

But hear me now, and mark it well,

Blizzard ran with her huntsman, I tell.

And I, a pawn in a cruel jest,

Believe me or do not, I've done my best.