Crown of Thorns

(hmmm-hahaha) Oh, little bird

with soot upon your face,

I plucked you from

the public marketplace.

You feared the fire,

the cold and angry crowd,

And now you curtsy,

beautiful and proud.

She writes my name in wax

and thinks it's fate,

To rule beside me

at

the castle gate.

She cooks her potions,

whispers to the moon,

Unaware my interest

fades so very soon.

(oh ho ho)

I keep her safe,

I pay her ransom fee,

But do not mistake

my pride for sympathy!

I love the drama

of her grateful eyes,

While she believes my pretty royal lies!

(oh, so tragic!) She guards my portrait,

keeps it by her bed,

Dreaming of

a crown upon her head.

I only sought

to keep her from the flame,

A curiosity, a fascinating game.

Poor little witch, the grand illusion ends,

We are not lovers,

we are barely friends. (hahaha-ahhhh)