The princess has awoken from her slumber,

Deep within her rose surrounded castle,

Her footsteps now echo down the empty hallways

That still remain in slumber.

No sounds disturb the maids reclining

On ancient frames of wood and canvas

Stolen story; please report.

Their faces immortalized in paint

For their lady to admire.

In death the castle stands

With faces frozen evermore,

Of men and servants who have prayed,

For their deliverance to come.

No thundering of hooves was heard,

And no light among the crimson petals

Had pierced the tower's spandrel spike

That Rose continues to inhabit.

No prince had yet to be born in life

To trust a simple promise,

That kisses life to death can bring,

And hope among the sleeping.

Among the spider's silver threads,

The bodies sleep and rot,

And dreams ascending from grey flesh

The chamber now surround.

The princess still resides in slumber,

Her face, a coral pink,

And on her nose, with gleeful cheer,

A beetle prince still sings.