19 posts
  • thebhavnasaxena 13w

    In the masquerade I am lost,
    My fingers scratch at their
    Artificial faces, wearing my
    Solitude like an ancient curse
    In my skin, I am the one in
    This carnival of lust and passion,
    With no mask hiding my face,
    Save for the elflock that sits
    Atop my head like a vicious crown,
    Clasping in its tangles a drop of
    My blood, from the day my heart
    Was broken, I cannot see, I cannot
    Look, the debris of my fragile heart
    Clouds my eyes like a blindfold of ice,
    Of stone, in a masquerade I am blind,
    Hoping to find, the one with gentle fingers,
    To undo the tangles in my soul, yearning
    To drink from his lips the elixir to make
    My heart whole again, I know not what
    Name to call out, in a masquerade I am
    Lost, I am blind, stumbling from one
    Person to another, their fingers cruel
    On my flesh, they feast on me, as if I
    Were an exotic fruit, till I succumb

    #medusa #transformation #masquerade #lost #elflock #oldenglish #women #portrait #sketch #penportrait #heart #people #life #feeling #imagination #self #shewrites #followme #poet #creative #readwriteunite #mirakee #writersnetwork #writersofmirakee #poetsofmirakee #writingcommunity #poetrycommunity #freeverse #pod #wds #writinglife #quotes #poem #mood #thoughts #diary #writersbay #mirakeeworld #wod #perspective #mythology #retelling #monster

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    To my fate, I surrender, I whisper,
    My voice tasting like gravel in my mouth,
    I collapse to the ground, and wait to be
    Trampled upon, till I feel my elflock grow
    Like vine, slither down my arms like snake,
    In the masquerade I was reborn, and
    Those who feasted upon me, now tremble
    At my shadow, they don't dare to look
    Me in the eye, my name is legend,
    Whispered in hushed voices,
    I was a lost girl,
    I am a monster,
    I am Medusa.

  • thebhavnasaxena 16w


    In the book of life,
    She had meant to write
    A story of a conquering
    Warrior queen, but instead
    She turns the pages to find, the tale
    Of a wicked queen, holding onto
    Her crown even as her fingers bleed
    And her throne is adorned with the
    Bones of countless innocents.
    She tears up the pages,
    Her book stained crimson.

    In the masquerade of life,
    She wished, nay, longed to be the Venus,
    All beauty, all grace, all charm, and
    The power of a goddess, at midnight,
    The masks come off, and the mirror
    On the wall shows her a Medusa, her own
    Gaze turning her to stone, cold, unfeeling,
    She hates the mirror, let it shatter
    Beneath her feet.

    Let her bleed, drain her out,
    She carries vile blood in her veins
    And vendettas poison her heart,
    How did this happen, she tries to
    Recall, but statues just are, their
    Memories frozen in some pocket
    Of oblivion, statues do not bleed,
    So if this be the curse she put upon
    Herself, let her fall from the mountain
    Of her vanity and let her break.

  • myspilledink 24w

    The North Wind and the Sun (fable by Aesop)

    Two forces argued over their worth
    About a stronger influence on the earth
    The North Wind claimed it's power
    It's ability to shore off ships and
    The force that could blow anything any hour.
    The Sun said it was warm
    Providing sunshine with it's charm
    More powerful and mighter fight
    The North wind blew whole day
    The sun shining away a brighter light
    Nobody came at a consensus,
    Their quarrel became asynchronous
    Scanning upon the barren land
    A Man walked wrapping a coat
    Buttoned up till neck, they scanned.
    "Stipulating on the removal on the coat,
    The strongest one unbuttons his cloak!"
    Turn by turn they agreed to try,
    Brains and strength, conditions comply
    North wind blustered round the clock
    The Man felt colder, grasping tighter the cloak
    Having tried all the force,
    North wind gave up changed its course
    Now it was time to check Sun's force
    The Sun glimmered little brightly and fine
    The Man felt warmer with rising sunshine
    Unhooked two of the buttons first
    Began to sweat and sensated thirst
    He took off the coat and kept it aside
    The sun smiled and let the heat subside
    Provided the Man a beautiful weather
    To relax and enjoy
    Sun declares his victory with a humble joy.
    "Forcefullness is never the key
    To make things done, I agree"
    Said the North wind this time.
    "One must be kind and warm
    And never do any harm,
    The power of persuasion
    Over the Forcefullness
    Must always be kept in mind.
    To the folks, who have been patient
    To read till the end of this line
    This was the story we learnt when kids
    And forgot with passing time.


  • themoonandthesun 24w


    Thank you @writersnetwork for the repost. ❤��❤

    Editor's choice? .. This made my day ������
    Thank you for all the likes and reposts ❤❤❤

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    Beauty and the Beast?

    The demon prince swept me away
    In a dungeon far far away
    The bars of iron and wooden shelves
    Paradoxical land of magic
    My dream library in captivity

    A curse befallen upon for arrogance
    Beauty turned to beast
    True love was the price for
    Blue eyes and fair skin
    A golden mane and canine indeed a crime

    Bigotry and stereotypes
    Standards of beauty and virtue
    Definitions of primitive and culture
    Animal lust against gentleman's chivalry
    A kiss with tongue or the ballroom dance

    Was I to choose?
    Between lust and love, Freedom and captivity,
    Beast and man?
    Was it right to fall for the beast and marry the man?
    Was it my choice indeed?

    A rotten rose
    Symbol of love, lust
    Or captivity, submission
    Was it not the story of misconception,
    Stockholm syndrome

    The story where beauty married the man, not the beast
    Then why is it called Beauty and the Beast?
    Can't a story as old as time be rewrote
    Not the polished fabrication but raw truth
    Where beauty chose darkness and the demon
    Where beauty chose the beast!
    Only then will it be true to its name!


  • thebhavnasaxena 41w

    Sleeping Beauty

    You taught me shame
    For being who I am,
    No, not fair enough,
    As if you could ever
    Comprehend my beauty,
    You made me believe
    In charming princes and
    Knights in shining armours
    Come to save me on a white horse,
    When I was my hero all along,
    You see, I was sleeping, I agree,
    But it was the curse you fed me,
    Go ahead, condemn me a witch,
    'Cause I won't listen to you no longer,
    I am awake, I have a wicked hunger,
    My apetite will swallow your "good girl"
    Stories, don't you know, when sleeping
    Beauty wakes, she hunts beasts,
    And eats the moral police for breakfast
    Beware, beware, she won't be tamed
    She won't be domisticated,
    She won't lie like a corpse in her own tale,
    She is awake, she is coming for her throne
    And she won't be the one that needs saving.

  • _charu_ 49w

    Pale Reflection

    A child as pale
    As her mother's shroud-
    A story like that
    Couldn't be spread around.

    The palace kept her hidden
    From curious eyes
    Behind thick brick walls
    And veils made of lies.

    Doctors were called
    From across the seas
    To cure the princess's
    Blood disease.

    The king married again
    A woman as pale as skeleton sand
    But she was surely not
    The fairest in the land.

    Mirror, mirror,
    On the wall,
    Who's the fairest
    Of them all?

    The princess's skin
    Would not turn a shade
    Darker than than a pristine,
    Snowy glade.

    The princess was frail
    Listless, some said
    They said there wasn't enough blood
    Going to her head.

    Blood, thought the queen,
    Blood is red.
    And so she took control
    Of what the princess was fed.

    Apples as stark
    As poppy buds
    Green leafy vegetables
    The most nutritious spuds

    The healthiest meats,
    Fish fileted,
    And the princess grew rosier
    Day by day.

    Mirror, mirror,
    On the wall,
    Who's the fairest
    Of them all?


  • thebhavnasaxena 71w


    Never again, I say, as you extend your
    Cup to me, just a sip, you coax me, but you
    Don't know what curse I must bear, I was once
    Parched with a thirst for all things of beauty
    In a forest I went to seek the fairest of them
    All, a maiden white as snow, and as she
    Bathed in the moonlight, I used to steal
    Glances, to drink in the lusciousness of
    Her glistening flesh, till one day, her
    Gaze struck me, oh the light from my heart
    Was gone, and icicles pierced my flesh,
    When I was turned inside out, to my
    Beastly form, she whispered, beauty
    Would give herself to the one worthy
    Of her, the one who wins her heart, not
    The one that wishes to conquer her
    Like a trophy to be kept in a locked chamber,
    And since that day, I prowl the wilderness,
    I rage within the walls of my curse, for one
    Brush against my lips turns the sweetest
    Wine to poison, no, don't offer me your cup,
    Offer me hope If there is any, 'cause a beast
    Lies waiting, for beauty to come rescue him

  • thebhavnasaxena 72w


    If this were a fairytale,
    I would be a poor little girl,
    More fragile than the china
    I would be cleaning in the
    Mansion of my evil stepmother,
    But I would be a prize, where else
    Would the prince find a more
    Beautiful, more obedient, more
    Compliant damsel to save,
    But here I am, smashing your
    Moulds with my gaze, I am not
    Your angel to put on a pedestal,
    If this were a fairytale, I would love
    You, even if you kept me a prisoner,
    But here I am, ripping off the shackles
    You adorn me with, no, if this is
    Your love, I'm better off without it,
    Maybe I need saving after all, 'cause
    This world is rife with danger, but
    Let me tell you what no fairytale
    Would, wicked or wise, a queen worth
    Her crown always saves herself

  • moirahathena196 74w

    #mirakee #shortstory #flashfiction #mermaid #ocean #love #fairytale #reimagining #retelling

    . . .

    (A Reimagining of Hans Christian Andersen's The Little Mermaid)

    "You're leaving… tomorrow?" Gideon's voice cracked. His gaze fixated on her light, ocean blue eyes. Endlessly searching their depths for a confirmation as the moon shone bright above them; a protected pearl always sailing above the sea of skies.

    The waves of the Sufian ocean rushed to kiss their feet, and Kaila hesitated. Seeing the strange look that was plastered on the boy's face. 'He looks sad…' She thought. But despite this, she still nodded. For indeed, they would set sail the next morning.

    'I'll only be gone for a few days.' Her eyes brightened, optimistic. 'We'll still see each other. And you are still to play me that song, remember?'

    Gideon smiled. Of course he remembered! It was a song solely for her, and only her. Kaila was his joy, and the more days they got to know each other, the more times he felt that feeling blossoming in his heart. He had admired her ever since they first met. A calm, starlit night at the Palace Gardens. Where she danced gracefully like the wind, a smile planted on her face as she thought of one man.

    The Prince.

    He had heard of the special girl who accompanied His Majesty, his cousin, all throughout the days. But it was only then did he meet her. Gideon complimented her skill, and Kaila had smiled at him. A sweet smile he found quite captivating. And before he knew it, they began to see each other every night at the nearest beach. Where he would play the flute and, until midnight, talk to her about life, the ocean, and love.

    Kaila snapped her fingers in front of him.

    'You seem to be lost in thought.' Her eyes showed concern. 'Are you alright, Gideon?'

    He shook his head, and smiled shyly. "Why, yes of course. I was just… obviously thinking."

    Kaila could not speak, but the lad cherished her silence. The girl was gifted with eloquent eyes, and that itself was enough for him. Gideon treasured her, for she was like the ocean. Kind and caring to those who treat her in the same way, but strong against those who don't. He had also learned that she loved fish as much as she loved the water. That she liked collecting seashells as the sun rose in the horizon. She was unique. She was beautiful.

    'Do you think it will happen?' she suddenly asked him. 'Marcus taking me as his bride?'


    'Marcus told me that if he could choose his own bride, it would most certainly be me.'

    They stared at the dark sea, listening intently as it roared with every wave. Gideon clutched his flute tighter. "Does he truly make you happy? Do you really feel the love in your heart when you are with my cousin?"

    Kaila smiled, her eyes glistening. 'Of course I do! I really do. I had loved him ever since we first met.'

    'It sounds selfish, I know. But I really do hope he chooses me over Gandrel's princess. So that I may also---'

    She paused.

    "What is it, Kaila?" Gideon held both her hands. He saw the worry that flickered across her eyes, and it set his heart blazing with concern.

    'Nothing.' She tried to smile. 'But Gideon, what if… what if I don't get my happily ever after? What if Marcus won't choose me?'

    He held her hands tighter. Wanting her to feel his warmth. Wanting her to know that he would always be there.

    "He will," he whispered. "He will choose you; for there is no reason as to why someone could not love you."

    "You are perfect, Kaila. Even your flaws. Your flaws are beautiful. You're beautiful."

    He wrapped her small frame in a tight embrace, not wanting to let her go. "But… if he does hurt you, promise me that you won't drown in sorrow. I'm here, Kaila. I have always been."

    The girl considered the matter, and a few drops of tears fell from her eyes. Not being able to earn the Prince's love, and hand, is risky. She could lose it all.

    "When the sun rises on the day after his marriage to another," The Sea Witch's voice echoed in her mind. "You shall turn into sea foam and die a lonely death."

    She hugged Gideon tighter as more and more began to fall.

    "Kaila," He wiped her tears away with his thumb. "Do not despair. You will get your happily ever after."

    They stood in a comfortable silence as the stars watched them from above. The waves continued to sing, and he held her hand once again, kissing the back of her palm.

    "Goodnight, my lady." He covered the sorrow with another smile. "I wish for your happiness."

    Kaila curtsied, and Gideon watched as the maiden gracefully walked back to the Palace Gates. Retiring for the night in preparation for the dawn's voyage.

    "I love you," he whispered. Allowing the words to fly with the evening breeze, hoping they'd somehow reach her.

    "I shall await your return."

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    Kaila could not speak, but the lad cherished her silence. The girl was gifted with eloquent eyes, and that itself was enough for him. Gideon treasured her, for she was like the ocean.

  • moirahathena196 84w

    #mirakee #poem #retelling #fairytale #dark #wolf

    "Little Red"

    Little Red, lonely Red,
    The Shadow's at your door.
    It screamed, kicked, punched,
    Glass crunched.
    Yet you still lay on the floor.
    Why, little Red?
    Are you afraid, little Red?
    Look, it's breaking the wood!

    Stand up, little Red.
    Push the window panes.
    Grab your cloak, little Red.
    And cloth for wounds of bane.
    Flee, little Red!
    Jump, run, wherever you can!
    The scarlet leaves are calling you.
    Follow them.

    Don't listen, little Red.
    Don't be lonely Red again.
    The trees are weak, they always bend,
    And speak of non but shame.
    But what did they say, little Red?
    That you're a worthless chap?
    Why, woe to them!
    Don't listen, little Red.

    "But truth it is, the trees don't lie."
    "The Shadow thinks the same."
    "You can't even ace a test of ballgame."
    "No wonder why you get bruised all night."
    A Dark Wolf, little Red.
    Big, bad, fast.
    "It's nice to see you again, little Red."
    Don't listen, run like it's your last.

    Faster, little Red!
    But wait! Look, a house!
    Knock on the door, little Red.
    And an old woman comes out.
    "A sweet child, a pretty child." She says.
    She takes you in as her own.
    Days have passed, you're happy now.
    But all is just a joke.

    The Woodland guards enter the house.
    Followed by cruel Woodland Queen
    The innocent woman is charged of rebellion;
    So her throat gets cut to seams.
    "So cry, Young Red. I'll listen. I'm a friend."
    The Dark Wolf came back quickly, then.
    Getting bigger, the more tears you shed.
    Getting bigger, mouth wider,

    Then there was no more little Red.

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    "Little Red"

    (A metaphorical retelling of Little Red Riding Hood)

  • geraldynn17 99w

    Why the Ocean is Salty

    Sipnget, goddess of
    Darkness, was tired of her
    Kingdom in the sky

    So she asked the god
    Ang-ngalo to build her a
    Mansion white as snow

    He got white bricks from
    Asin, the salt king and so
    They started to build

    But Baybay, goddess
    Of the ocean could not sleep
    Amid the building

    One day she could not
    Stand it anymore and sent
    Waves to sink the bricks

    The salt dissolved in
    The ocean and that is why
    It is salty now!


  • cyan_etc 107w

    El Rey de la Nieve

    El rey de la nieve, desconfiado de que ella guardaria su identidad en secreto, la siguio hasta su tierra. Una vez alli la enamoro y, de a poco, fue aprendiendo a querer su calor. Al ver a sus hijos: uno con sus ojos de color celeste palido, la otra con su pelo casi blanco, se dio cuenta de que tambien los amaba con locura.

    Una noche ella no pudo seguir guardando el secreto. El enfurecio, y desatando una ventisca desapareció. Se había engañado, se permitio confiar, y ahora lo habia perdido todo.

  • lanalavender08 130w

    I managed to make a little blurb from the #mirakee prompt. Anyone wanna tell me if I should actually develop it or not? #believe #retelling #cinderella #excerpt

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    You would never believe me if I told you that I, a mere maid at this point, got proposed to by the prince at the only dance I've ever formally attended, then rejected his proposal in front of everyone, before vanishing in an edible carriage drawn by mice. But its true and I can prove it.

  • sakrishnan 143w

    Tales of the Corpse

    Which was why Vikramaditya could not defend himself when Vetala suddenly turned and without a warning, he hit the king hard on the head with a rock which was in Vetala's hands. The last thing Vikramaditya knew was that there was a sharp pain in his head and then a numbing darkness as he feebly heard Vetala run away from the place.
    E book by SA Krishnan
    Free on Amazon Kindle

  • sakrishnan 146w

    Tales of the Corpse

    The king was surprised when he heard the sound of the fruit crashing. Because it did not sound like a fruit. At all.
    True enough, Vikramaditya was shocked to see something red inside the fruit. Glowing beautiful red.
    The king’s breath caught in his throat as he pulled out the ‘thing’ and he saw a huge ruby in his hands. The ruby which was the size of his palm.
    "What is this?" He demanded looking at the stone and he looked at Mal Deo who was studying the king with a happy smirk. "Is this stone for real?" Vikramaditya's head was reeling.
    In the past too, the man had offered fruits before. Vikramaditya had ordered that none of his people should touch it as he had put it away... and to think each had a ruby in it.
    Mal Deo got up as he nodded at the king. "My name is not Mal Deo, your majesty. My name is Shita Shil. I know you do not believe me." He said with a small smile. "I know you would have this stone tested, after I am gone." The merchant actually chuckled as he continued. "I live near the forests where the Godavari flows. I have a hermitage there near a cemetery." Vikramaditya said nothing but he was suddenly feeling cold as he let the other man talk. "I have presented you with many gifts for the past two months, your majesty. In return of that I request you to come to my hermitage, during the fourteenth day of the dark half of the coming month. I have a special work for you." Shita Shil told the king.

  • sakrishnan 147w

    Krishna: The Conquest of Mathura

    Jarasandha was an impressive man. He was the father of twin daughters, both of whom had married Kamsa. He was seven feet tall and he towered over all the other men working under him. Not many knew it, but Magadha was one of the few kingdoms of Bharatha which allowed non-Aryans free entry into the kingdom. That was deliberate. Though the subjects of Magadha had initially protested against it, they found that the non-Aryans were not exactly what was made out of them. They were as normal as themselves and most Aryans found themselves including the non-Aryans there in their trade and other activities.

  • elicia 143w

    Image from ROverhate via Pixabay: #butterflies

    #love #retelling #sad #arrangedmarriage #AncientTimes #china #StarcrossedLovers #folktale

    Left from a challenge I completed awhile ago, but i submitted something else other than this.

    Thinking about my other post, "By the River of Tears," decided to post this one too, instead of waiting for Valentine's Day (got something else for that too :) )

    A retelling of the Butterfly Lovers, with a twist...
    Let's give it a happy ending (^_^)/
    Poem: Fleeing Under the Love of Butterflies
    It was nothing new
    A faked death

    It was nothing new
    Arranged to someone's else

    It was nothing new
    to be oblivious, until it becomes out of reach

    It was nothing new
    But with an element of my own

    It was nothing new
    I conquered our fate for us

    I let go two butterflies cajoling in the air
    A symbolism of our love

    However the message they take
    Is the message they wish to perceive

    Hushing my sweet dear one
    I wiped the tears away from her face

    Promising her we'll be safe
    She wraps her arms around

    Sobbing away she told me
    Thank heavens! I thought you were long gone

    Don't ever leave me again
    I don't care if we live in shambles

    So we set sail on a secret riverboat
    Boarded to a peaceful mountain

    Me and her, sitting and watching the sunset
    A peaceful and secluded abode we lived

    Happy and content to reach to our old days
    A blessing I would have missed


    The Butterfly Lovers, one of China's 4 Great Folktales, actually has a sad ending. One was arranged to be married to someone else and the other one died after finding out. On the day of the wedding, the one that was engaged to be married traveled past her lover's grave. She jumped into the grave, wishing to be with her deceased lover, and all came out was a pair of butterflies, the two lovers.

    Their tale reminds me of Romeo and Juliet...
    If only famous love tales could have a happier ending...

    I'd imagine them faking their deaths, then sailing away on a riverboat down the winding rivers in between mountains...

    Story/poem tagged under my other tags. Do check them out if you want ☺️

    #AStoryWithinAPoem #OfEpicsAndTales #OfTragicBygoneLove

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    Butterfly Lovers

  • crystallong 160w


    We know the tale.
    We know the song.
    We know the story
    Of a queen gone wrong.

    Mirror, mirror
    On the wall,
    Who is fairest
    Of them all?

    We know Snow White.
    We know the little men.
    We know the story
    Of what happened then.

    We know the Prince
    Who came to find
    His one true love
    And break the bond.

    But what ever became
    Of that young girl?
    How did the rest
    Of the story unfurl?

    I saw a beauty
    Set apart
    Take up the queen's
    Darkest art.

    I heard her speak
    Into a glass
    As if no time
    Did ever pass.

    A child played
    Inside a garden.
    I felt the queen's
    Soft heart harden.

    "Mirror, mirror
    On the wall,
    Who is fairest
    Of them all?"


  • mansigururani 235w

    Classic fairy tales bring hopes (and tonnes of dolls) for young children. But with modern times, the inner feminists of these classis princesses rises too. #fairytales #retelling


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    "Make sure the food isn't spicy!" The mistress orders.

    She smirks as she adds another spoon of spice.

    Cindrella isn't that kind anymore.
    -Mansi Gururani