Once upon a witching hour
Mary stole the light of Old Miss Flowers
Little Mary cut out her heart
A tired display
Of timeless power
Once upon her broken nails
She tread the shadows of fables and tales
Mary was mean, but very lonely
A dark visage
Of final farewells
Once upon her dripping hands
“Bloody Mary” to the mirror, thrice they’d chant
Attending, a slave to this midnight summons
And so again
The horror began
Once upon some broken glass
When at last the image of Mary had passed
The lonely girl cursed black fate
Immortally wounded
And wounding contrast
Once upon a wicked hope
Joy filled her fingers as they fit noose to rope
A servant no more, Mary would fly
Dark memories crushed
Just like her throat