A Twisted Dark Tale Of The Old South

Dark Revenge Part 1


On a stormy, summer night in the deep South
she was born with a silver spoon in her mouth.
Inconsolable, her grieving father sobbed and cried
for his dear wife, who giving her birth had died.
He gave his daughter to his slave, Cinder, to nurse

Cinder wasn't born in a cabin or cotton field.
She was one of the innocents the greedy steal.
African priestess trained in rites of ancient voodoo.
Her own infant had died and she knew what to do
to make that little, lily-white baby become her own

Her father had named his tiny daughter Marylou
After her dead mother and his own mother too
but Cinder called her infant charge, Petit Mystère
and dedicated her to the dark powers everywhere.
She would be a force unstoppable to reckon with.

When Mystère would suckle from Cinder's breasts
and on their soft pillow lay her golden head to rest
Her lullaby would be chanted in African dialect.
She grew and for the slaves she learned respect,
instructed in the dark arts by a skilled teacher

Observing a shameful parade to father's room
of captive, dark women 'neath the silent moon
Whip lashes on backs of any daring to resist.
When slaves became her's on freedom she'd insist.
She watched from shadows and held her tongue