Fairy tales IN trunks too

She made one for herself...
Where she rode the winged Pegasus,

Robed and armed with swords
And slayed mighty dragons,

She fought fire with her bare hands,

She became the knight,

Who she always thought would rescue her.

They never actually came,

To her tower at all,

Nor riding on white steeds,

Nor braving monsters, and storms...

She counted days and months,

In the lines on her fair skin,

Drew them herself,

With nails that had grown wild,

She wrapped the bloodied hands,

With her golden hair,

All thorns and matted,

Her only crown,

The flowers, had dried away,
the petals - crushed...

Even the magic mirror refused to speak to her anymore,

She wasn’t the chosen one for the fairy tale…

She waited… For she aspired to be,

In clichéd phoenix tales,

Be a phoenix herself.
To turn life around.

With magic wands and likes,

And crumbled and vanished in those very ashes. 

NOTE: I often like writing poems in continuation to a previous poem, or in the same theme,

Here is a link to Fairy Tales in Trunks the original one.

You might enjoy it