You should dry your eye
The wicked old crone
Delights when you cry.
The woods all around,
No escape from here -
Survive by your wits
Swallow all your fear.
Beware the oven
The witch stokes it hot;
Hansel's in his cage
He can help you not.
No fairy-mother,
Nor bold knight to care -
None whisper, 'fret not'
No one strokes your hair.
There is no rescue,
Alone you shall be -
You must save yourself
Godspeed, child, to thee.
*
No comments:
Post a Comment