Silenced stories

_{Poem by [Linderel].}

Was there something dearer
than a childhoold storybook?
Its pages now torn
it is laid aside, no voice to read

Far up in her tower
the princess still waits
gazing morosely at
brambled bush, its tangled roots

If the fairy tale is over
who is there to tell?
Her silent pleas
if impassioned, still go unheard

The royal daughter
abandoned to cruel fate
dust now in her hair
she is forgotten, left behind

She would wish power
over her greying locks
slowly wrinkled skin
but knows no spell, no enchantment

Her time now draws nearer
as deep within bitterness grows
the prince is long gone
and with him, the spectre of love faded.