White as snow was her skin,
Red as an apple, her lips.
To be called the fairest of them all,
Her birth title.

She was the fairest of them all,
But not the luckiest.
She was a innocent creature, fallen
Victim to all unfortunates.

Like a beautiful bird
Her fate was sealed to be hunted,
To be chased, to hide among theifs and refugees.

Red wasn't her colour,
She was in the end,taken down with the charm of its redness.
The red apple like her lips.

A simple food as a bait,
And the free bird was back to a
Closed box.
Dead and pale..

Now she lay pale as a ghost,
Her red lips turned blue by posion,
As cold as the snowy winter.
No longer the fairest of them all.
It was a title of her past,
Now belonging to another.

In the end would someone kiss her?
Something as ghostly as her,
Someone who is injected with posion.
No sane man would.

But fools like her exist,
Who fell for the red apple and its charm..
Atleast she died with the most prettiest heart, With the kindest soul.

******

To any snow white fans...

No Sane person would kiss a poisoned corpse.
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