The Doze of the Night

The Doze of the Night.

She thought she knew what love meant,
She thought she had always held it all,
But waking up on that winter's morn
She knew that she had only just thought.

The Princess woke from her doze,
But no Prince had really kissed her,
The Princess woke to a castle
That was but full of still figures.

The vines had wound her and tied her up
Rooted her, and muted her
And as the princess lay there she thought
Is this really the morn?

Better was the sleep of the dead
Better was the doze of night
Better to not wake up and realise
That the prince was no prince
But a guard who kept her alive.

~ Glowing Embers ~

More Poems By Embers

Home