Dedicated to: MystresMyna

I

t was a wonderland of sorts

With red demons and black queens

And white orbed souls that merged

With the fog of a dreaming mind

But we dont get to pick our reality.

The Life is in the Blood I found

In The Toadstool Wood

With this Enchanted Ink

She trod Ample ground

I wrote the Stories of

The Raven Queen

In 31 creepy words

And At The Round table

Just like the twisted fable

The Devil Joins me for Tea.

But it wasnt The Choice Of her choosing

After all she was the
Beauty's Beast

They talked about

This and That and the other

  And between the mad laughter

She missed her colored mother

and hoped

She'd find a moment of clarity.

Oh yes it was,

A Birthday to remember

We loved her Gift from space

If only time had remembered her

He might've have spared some grace.

If it werent for the
Hero of the moors

Who kept souls in
The Almanac of Poesies

And chided butterflies who'd say

You cant fly If you're fat

Or no Snack Required

But if every caterpillar listened

To the sound of confinement

A cocoon made
 
Or the force of a flap

As the birds betrayed

The air in a sense that none made

They would have never joined them.