Black and White Roses

You spend all your days
writing your stolen stoic siliques
on your throne made from white roses;

which should be mine.

Dream you dreams of a better world,
where the fire in the core
of your broken world,
dies out, yet we’re still alive.

The earth is at your feet,
following your stupid rules
of hope and good.
Where altruism follows through
and evil was lost and gone.

I forgot a long time ago,
I was the Grimm antagonist.

The master deceiver,
the treacherous villain.
I’m the evil witch,
who breaks the worlds hearts
with her whore magic,
concocted from dead flowers
and broken desires.