The clock strikes twelve,
voice soaked in red wine from the ball,
I walk under a wide-stretched bridge.
Avenues of trees made of diamonds,
evil spirits haunt me, hidden shadows.
Halfway through, I step out of my glass slipper.
Forbidden majesty, powerful realm of king and queen.
Smoke clouds the drawbridge, circling the castle,
over the moats, light travels sideways.
Tired, I throw myself to the ground.
Curled up, bent next to a stone under cracking twigs.
The sky as obdurately black and blank as hate,
lavish party dress turns into grayish-brown beaten, morbid rags.
Grasp fabric around myself, eyes bewildered,
magical dust escapes, mirror of dreadful screams.
Hysteria whispers, end of the world.
One story disheartening, under a spell.
Fooled by an evil stepmother, clenching my fists,
Never discover my true love, star-crossed life.