I really think I am going mad

and all this, what is around me,

seems no less through the agency

of magic. However, as said,

I want domination, shackles.

My blood, although it is princely,

feels very well under such bonds,

more than well. I would love to shout,

I’d love to shout with such a voice

that the echo would fade away

above the whole world. O how nice

bondage is here that otherwise

darkens the place in which it reigns.

I have never felt so anxious

for the miraculous image

that comes when the story’s over.

The end of this thing here must be

a miracle, for it makes me

suffer to wait so. Hey, Father!

King:

This is getting painful. Come home.

Prince:

My home will be forever here.

I feel every single moment

like a kiss. The passage of time

touches my cheeks caressingly,

my senses draw toward this perfume.

I will cling to this world here

as she to me. I will not come

away, not ever.

King:

And what if I order you now?

Prince:

You’ve neither say nor power here.

I give myself the final word.

I confer the power on me

that says not to listen to you.

Forgive me, Father, in me is

a rebellious, youthful impulse,

one you had too when you were young.

I’ll stay and wait here till life stirs.

King:

Well must I too. But this hand has

yet to be extended, has yet

to forgive you for your speech.

Prince:

It is so infinitely dear

to forgive, so sweet to the one

who does so over and over.

That you’d likely forgive me

I knew for certain.

King:

What blather!

Prince:

I will forget that this strikes me

as very strange, so that even

anticipation keeps silent

and her conduct is still concealed

by a question. Yes, I am here

in a place so well beloved

that I can perhaps be patient.

But I am bothered by one thought:

Just where is Cinderella now?

Eh? What if she doesn’t return?

What if she totally forgot

just where her empathy belongs?

This is improbable but not

unlikely. That which is likely

is a wide world, and that a thing

happened was already likely,

even while seeming unlikely,

is almost beyond my grasp too.

And what is likely beyond me

is still as good as being likely.

So be it. I will get a grip

on myself. It befits someone,

especially men, to be proud.

But what is the fear in pride then,

what affects it so? And such pride,

what could it be worth to yourself?

No, I wish to weep, that this child

far from me so long has a chance.

I want to think that only this

will ever be.

King:

I fear while I stand here idle,

my state totters. Let it sink

into chaos. The fairy tale

draws to an end and tickles

my fancy; afterward will I

be the divine order once more.