she counted down in agony,
waited for what came next,
the hero’s descent from glory,
broken as she watched the crown melt,
watched the poison trickle down her neck
diamonds lay dented on the floor,
while her piercing eyes hit the glass
the tale of the century spoiled,
by gloating buried with stolen gold
her misled hope was misplaced,
by those who etched her rumors,
her reputation on the palace walls,
built with loose stones like marbles,
that made her slip on her own soul
but while everyone laughed at her,
she got up again with diamonds in her hands,
and built herself a throne,
because she was her own antidote