Born of Thorns

in hollow woods where roots entwine where silver moon forgets to shine a babe was swayed by midnight’s breath rocked in arms as cold as death her cradle, built of jagged thorn her lullaby, the raven’s mourn no mother’s kiss, no father’s name just whispered spells and tongues of flame the fairies watched with wary eyes they knew the price of darkened skies for power coils, a creeping vine it twists the soul, it drinks the spine so grew the child, cruel and tall a shadow stretched, eclipsing all with poison lips and serpent tongue her voice a curse where once was song and when the world would bow or break she stood alone—for fear’s own sake no crown of gold, no blood nor kin a throne of thorns, a heart of sin