Princess Of The Damned

Dream on, sweet Princess of the Damned,
Your Prince may come from the kiss of a poisoned frog,
Sweet high flying woman of the glitzy tabloid,
Your vanity finds it's love in an illusional dialogue.

You were doomed to captivity in a soul with no value,
Your life was prophesied by the bleeding heart seer,
The outcome to be an ominous and menacing fate,
For the haggard old witch had baptized you in tears.

You climbed the ladder of aristocratic success,
And wore gucci to the champagne garden party,
Rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous,
Selling your love vouchers to the lost and lonely.

You strutted your wares across societies stage,
Making the most of your assets, your pins eleven,
To you, I was just another voucher, a broken promise,
As you stole my soul like a succubus demon.

You wooed me with a passion derived from a peepshow,
Bewitched in the bubble of a twilight romance,
A backstreet knee trembler behind the beer tent,
I fell in love, while you led the merry dance.

I valued then, what I thought was talent,
I promoted you to the pinnacle of your career,
But the fame struck with vanity only you understood,
As you beat on your concubines without a care.

You cursed me with a tongue forged from fire,
You beat me with the cruelty of a devious mind,
You clawed at my heart until I cried tears of blood,
And with your sated ego, you left me behind.

You dressed up as yourself to go out trick or treating,
And smiled your sneer at the paranoid paparazzi,
Selling photographs of you as a painful reminder,
Of the bad publicity you tried to avoid so desperately.

And I sent your twisted face to Torquemada,
To experience the wrath of his inquisition,
And be burned at the stake, to be licked at by fire,
To the howls and screams of your devious confession.

You fell from grace like a debauched fallen angel,
No longer able to hide your contempt of others,
You kicked and screamed and scratched at your ego,
Until you stank like a half dead carcass in a sewer.

You were sacrificed on the alter of your own vanity,
As millions tuned in to hear your epitaph of eloquence,
The insincerity of the false, last words of a hypocrite,
Even though you've fallen, you manipulate your arrogance.

So dream on sweet Princess of the Damned,
Your Prince may come with the kiss of the poisoned frog,
To raise you again, to the front of the glitzy tabloid,
In the illusion of your eloquent dialogue.