Her tears ran still.
The clock struck twelve and Cinderella ran from her fears;
From the truth
That all change was inevitable.
Her prince doomed from the start
To place petals and sparkling fineries -
Only to escape his own pain by inflicting it in others
And so set the path for the very destruction that was to never follow
The clock struck 12, and she flew from the fear
And the danger
To wallow in pity
And grief
Her tears
They ran
The beautiful blue skies opened down upon the earth
And so too did her eyes pool up
I have seen sadness
And grief
And to know them so well
As she knew them.
Why must we torment ourselves so?
Why must we then torment each other?
You did not flee, but you faced your fears
And they were frightening
As they are wont to be.
Rest dear angel
Please rest,
You shall find your feet again.
You may be missing the glass slipper,
But you shall be rescued one day
And taken to new heights, new beginnings.
Endure this, allow it to mold you
And you shall become strong for it.
Fight it, and it will battle you for everything you have left.
I will be here waiting, as I have promised.
I am not the prince,
But I am familiar with slippers and dreams.
I will be here waiting.
~Chris~
26 June 2006
