Maleficent: Mistress of Evil (A Movie Poem)

The absence of love

makes one a villain

in other’s hearts.

In the proposal

the weeping willow

sheds its leaves

to the sky,

while in the bowels below

the servants of the earth

forge war,

pull iron from earth

as it screams

to be reclaimed.

Above, silk napkins

unfold into laps

with a curt snap of wrists.

Into the depths

the princess falls,

into the opposite of heaven.

She opens her eyes

to the evil above her, around her,

near her, pouring out

like bearings onto sheets of gold.

“Maybe,” she thinks,

“we can exist

without fear of war?

Find a way together?”

This is no fairy tale,

but yet this

is precisely a fairy tale.

She dreams of her wedding

where all are invited

and all are expected.

She can see butterflies

swirl around her wedding gown,

her face reflected in a golden bowl,

the bloom of thousands

of attending fairies.

But yet, she is still falling,

full with the wisdom

that the spindle

curses everything it touches

and that her subjects are locusts

fated to swarm the earth

a thousand years

enduring the evil promised them,

until she burns herself out,

the last blood of the Phoenix,

destined from ashes to be transformed.

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