Prince Charming, Revisited

It was the spring, the Bards all say

A word came from a heav'n sent guide

And called a great Prince far away,

A harp and sword rode by his side.



Astride his blue-gray gallant mount

Upon whom name had never touched

For all felt awe at its noble spirit

And could not praise the steed enough.



Upon this stallion the Prince set out

Upon the willing stallion's grace

Shared was the mission, man and mount

Shared was the call from heaven's face



Astride the path behind the two

So say the Bards, where wisdom dwells

Remained a lady who's beauty few

Had ever spied and lived to tell.



For she was daughter to a king

Who treasured her beyond all wealth,

Resolved to lock her under key

To keep this treasure to himself.



But in her flow'ry eighteenth year

A young Prince showed up in disguise

From a glorious kingdom, far, yet near

And caught the golden princess' eye.



His father, though, was mortal foe

Unto the lady's lustful lord

Who knew the Prince could crush and throw

Him into Hades with a word.



At last the mad King found him out

Perceived the Prince there in his land

And chose to try to bribe the lout

Who threatened all his evil plans.



But off! Imposter, never will

I give in to your foreign bribe

For to your daughter, I will fulfil

The gift of full and glorious life!



To my castle she will go

Far from your foul fear-filled domain

Hades, you will surely know

But her great beauty will remain.



The dark lord now so filled with rage

Who knew he had now but one chance

Commissioned his most frightful sage

To breach the Prince's confidence.



So in this guile, this treachery

The evil sage rode by his side

His pretence now, of course would be

To help the Prince take home his Bride.



But this great Prince had vision wide

And knew this traitor with a glance

Yet still allowed him by his side

And willingly gave him his chance.



An evil trap was quickly laid

The Prince continued to the slaughter

An awful price he chose to pay

To gain the King's most lovely daughter.



The people massed from all the land

To mourn the Prince's dreadful death

But unbeknownst to most of them

The grave returned his Princely breath.



And in some overlooked dark tomb

A Prince rose up in far more glory

Bearing well the saving wounds

That give great light unto this story.



And to his love he fairly flew

Out to the one he loved beyond

The power of death, to hold him to

The sting of death, its foul sound.



They met beneath a green fig tree

They met with fairness, pure sweet passion

But then he saddled his blue-gray steed

To consummate his final mission.



Don't fear, my love, for in these hands

Lies my love for you in store

Give it freely to this land

For I'll return to you once more.