Sonnet #253

Beloved daughter of the beast in question,

Has no words to speak to how her parents met

In fact, I’ve never heard it spoken, yet

How mother was tricked, held against her intentions

Until the monster’s mask was shaken free

By their great wrestling and shouting matches –

She speaks so highly of her father, she latches

to his great work, his great kindom in the trees

When asked about the curse, she says we are all

born with original sin upon us, let us move on

From such tedious subjects as the sins we share all

done in the name of, and let the servants’ son

in to serve us tea. Beloved son of candelabras

He was born inherited to serve, and to sing a little opera

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