cruella

how the story rolls, magic's taught and history's told, a glory hole, which through gazed her eyes of gold, those veins run cold, mystery's wife evades her soul, scaring to and fro, tearing through the snow, as she makes her darling coat, hoarding all the shawls, now her evil highness rose, kind of like shakespearean prose, without the rose, avid as she sows, cruella grows, horace and jasper stole, so let the horror flow, black and white in hair, elegantly gaunt in frame, a boney flare, which christened cruel with creepy grace, always smokey air, circling one lurch, hepburn face, in her head which filled the space, was the one hellacious taste, as she aims her fate, nothing flees her sore embrace, as the biggest mistake that cruel ever made, was when she left her cave and started to reign, as the love for her fades, our feelings won't change, so my darling cruella, we see through the grey, in her cold glare, loveliest and rare, frightened you'll soon wear, and this elegantly haunting is so fair, theres no reason to part from her cold lair, she has all of the loveliest and rare, things which frighten at first, but she'll soon wear, she's a regional spark from this nowhere, and this elegant loveliness so fair, taking strolls through the dark by the moon's glare, as she listens for barks in the night air, always searching for marks on the white hair, cruel, you're so fair