her name known by many,
her story spread by thousands,
yet even as her child,
I can never know her.

some say her hair was golden,
some say midnight black.

some say her eyes were golden,
some say, dark as death.

her tale is spread far and each time,
it is more a lie than the truth.
they become legends,
legends of legions,
that killed and maimed.
legends of maidens that rescued themselves.

legends of a dead queen,
that somehow still lived.

some say she was an angel none deserved,
some say she was a monster.

but one thing they all can agree upon was that,
despite being born dead she truly lived.

oh, mamma, cannot know.