Embers aglow, sear her soul
She sat by the cinders, her work all done,
listening to the crackling sound,
weary hands, in the red glow she warmed,
the sparks dying out slowly, she saw,
waiting still, till they were gone.
Cinderella, by the cinders sat,
content; but a tad forlorn.
The world she knew was vain and
contemptuous,
her step-sisters and mum, devious souls.
Crouch she did when they yelled her
commands,
deep within though, she had the cleanest
heart.
So pure was she, the cinders melted,
molten surged,
nothingness replaced the air by the hearth.
A stroke of luck took her to the prized
Ball,
the fairy had said, this much and no more.
Caught up in the moment she didn't
see the clock strike, as she should have
before.
Pandemonium, panic and back to clinkers
she was,
the proverbial prince had a relic from
their time,
it didn't take much for him to define,
she was the one with the golden heart and
mind,
the missing shoe fitted too,
he reckoned it was divine.
Her world, was complete, she wanted no
more,
the cinders, she picked, cupping them
tenderly, as they quietly singed her palms.
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