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Literature Text
She never smiled, laughed or frowned;
No wrinkles on Her Majesty's face,
Or a single hair e'er out of place...
Nothing imperfect was allowed
On pain of death--our beauteous Queen,
So graceful, quiet, cold, serene
As she stalked her hall of mirrors grand,
The Fairest One in all the Land
Watched her snow-white daughter grow;
Her emerald eyes began to glow
With desperate, cruel, silent hate
As her beauty threatened to abate...
Such ugliness beneath the skin!
O flawless vessel, filled with sin---
Cold Vanity, bitter Envy, Greed;
Me, My, and Mine her only creed...
A poisoned apple from her hand
Can't make her Fairest in the Land;
Love for others will prevail,
One kiss, and hatred now shall fail...
The Queen is dead, felled by her pride;
All hail the snow-white princess bride,
The Fairest One in all the Land---
Let no one put a mirror in her hand!
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