A Sacrificial Princess

Poor farmer Johnson; I’ve stolen his scarecrow
It’s a bit of a rare blow,
Since it’s not something I can be replacing.

But he’s out of sheep,
And his gardens weeds six-feet deep.
If he’s smart, he’ll run off like Hellhounds were chasing.

I estimate it’ll take the Dragon about one-minute thirty
To realize that I’ve done him a bit of dirty.
Then he’ll head to the castle spouting fumes.
Such are the idiotic situations which Fate looms.

My Father, the King made a cunning plan:
I’d be a dead Princess, he’d be a live man.
He’ll sleep on the couch ‘til his beard eats his face.

The Queen Mother wants me sound and safe.
So I can marry and breed and grow rusty and chafe.
Have I mentioned I’m not fond of this medieval-minded place?

But I skipped my every lesson in Astronomy
To study philosophy and demonology.
My brain’s grown a muscle; my skull barely fits.
Don’t fight fire with fire when you’ve no flame—just wits.

And it seems it’s time to get tied to the rock.
There’s a host of villagers—a herd? A flock?
Convinced that my death will change their luck.

They’re picking me up with a ragged cheer.
And I think that Hobbit drank all the beer.
I can predict what’ll happen next: It’s gonna suck.

Jeff Mach Written by:

Jeff Mach is an author, playwright, event creator, and certified Villain. You can always pick up his bestselling first novel, "There and NEVER, EVER BACK AGAIN"—or, indeed, his increasingly large selection of other peculiar books. If you'd like to talk more to Jeff, or if you're simply a Monstrous Creature yourself, stop by @darklordjournal on Twitter, or The Dark Lord Journal on Facebook.