The Lady in Grey

Ice-lady of the wood,

Smoke for hair and space for eyes,

Grown out of contradiction,

Taught not to love, only disguise.

She whispers words

Only witches can see,

Burning babies’ tears one by one,

In the hope of being set free.

For what blackness is compared

To that upon her heart?

In the darkness there passes

Wisdom enough to impart;

There are no princes on

White steeds. None wait

Under the towers of the mind.

Roses, only destiny creates,

Lest be left behind,

Like the woman in the wood.

The End

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