She lay still, as the sun set down.
She lay still, as the whisperers crossed out.
Cause she was the very source of power the elders told tales about.
Her eyes, darker than Siberian valleys.
Her hair, softer than floating feathers.
Her face, prettier than any other nightshade beauty.
Though she didn't wanted a Prince to love her.
For she was every man's darkest fear.
She wasn't the girl with glass slippers,
Nor the one with poison apple.
Neither she was the beauty who fell asleep,
Nor the girl waiting in the tower.
She was a lady with delicacy,
Her heart, a locked away mystery.
Because she was not the princess waiting for her freedom.
She was the evil Queen ruling the entire kingdom.