Wednesday, January 23, 2013


By Samantha Seto

The clock strikes twelve,
voice soaked in red wine from the ball,
I walk under a wide-stretched bridge.

Avenues of trees made of diamonds,
evil spirits haunt me, hidden shadows.
Halfway through, I step out of my glass slipper.

Forbidden majesty, powerful realm of king and queen.
Smoke clouds the drawbridge, circling the castle,
over the moats, light travels sideways.

Tired, I throw myself to the ground.
Curled up, bent next to a stone under cracking twigs.
The sky as obdurately black and blank as hate,
lavish party dress turns into grayish-brown beaten, morbid rags.

Grasp fabric around myself, eyes bewildered,
magical dust escapes, mirror of dreadful screams.
Hysteria whispers, end of the world.

One story disheartening, under a spell.
Fooled by an evil stepmother,
Never discover my true love, star-crossed life.

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Samantha Seto is a writer. She has been published in various anthologies including Ceremony, The Screech Owl, Coffee Table Poetry, Carcinogenic Poetry, and Black Magnolias Journal. Samantha studies creative writing.


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