The Lonely Prince: An Adult's Anti-Fairy Tale

Once upon a time, it's said,
in a land far, far away,
there lived a prince of the dead,
in a castle by the bay.

But this poor prince was lonely,
though his home was fair and bright,
since his whole court was empty,
and from him, folks fled in fright.

For his face was pus and bone,
and his fingers, putrid green,
and though he bathed with cologne,
he smelled of rotten gangrene.

Now this prince was very smart,
and so hatched upon a plan,
that he hoped, in some small part,
would bring people to his land.

He found himself an artiste,
whose canvas was uncooked meat,
to paint him a masterpiece,
from his neck down to his feet.

He found himself a sculptor,
a leader in his own right,
to shape his face some features,
to exemplify his might.

He found himself a florist,
from a hot and muggy bog,
to grow him a posy vest,
that could overcome his smog.

He found himself a herald,
a loud and boisterous wiz,
to travel round every guild,
and sing to them his praises.

Soon the people came on down,
first in ones and twos and threes,
his town grew in leaps and bounds,
and at last the prince was pleased.

For his ageless, stony gaze,
the awed masses did behold,
and word went out many ways,
that his heart was colored gold.

An exquisite man, they said,
with a wise and kingly mien,
such a city well was led,
no wonder all within gleamed.

Soon the lost and lonely prince,
had friends again at long last,
even once a dalliance,
with a wet and willing lass.

Then one day he took a bride,
from amongst the freshly dead,
it's said love crossed death's divide,
they're two souls, though just one head.

So now as our tale dismounts,
in the prince's new glory,
we've learned the outside's what counts,
especially if you're gory.

All in all, a lovely tale,
and even more so for me,
for now that Daddy's coffin's nailed (again!),
he has left it all to me!