Grieved and forgotten; a loss with the world that was ultimately non existent to begin with. What life has brought to me is inescapable, as I sit here with my massive-beastly claws on the glass. Will I ever be loved?_____________________________________________________________________

Laughter fills the air, as playful music runs in the rhythm of the women dancing in their extravagant ball gowns and scented French perfume. A king sits on his throne, reigned with pride and glory, self absorbed in his antics as he roars his voice, his crested goblet at hand. But once the shadows have overtaken, the curtains begin to suddenly ripple against the chilly air. The music has stopped, shivers begin to tingle down people’s spine. An old beggar standing against the gigantic doors, holding the blood inked flower as an offering.

She begs, “I humbly offer this rose, to find shelter from this bitter cold”.

The king laughed with arrogance. How hysterical, he thought. To think an old hag can offer me a measly rose.

Declining her request, he is about to make a passive turn until the stars begin to shine. What luminescence and glory has been granted to this kingdom? He glints and comes in awe with the majestic enchantress. He finds himself on his knees, pleading and begging, blinded by what hideousness he had found himself to begin with. Her golden hair floating and her icy eyes fixed over him. The position of a powerful king is left bowing towards an enchantress.

“I see no love in you, for you must be punished. I will show the inner beast you are.”

_______________________________________________________________________

Years have passed, and I hunch over the enchanted rose. For this rose has become my lifeline. If I live or die, it is my mere faith to decide. What remains is the broken tables and rusting chairs that had once printed my kingly past. My self portrait shredded by my claws, the only best I could do was act in repulsion. Spotting myself in a shattered mirror, to be in the face of a distorted beast. Time passing by, and each rose petal that falls, I feel hopeless into wondering if a person can love a beast.