[Verse 1 – spoken with low, deliberate authority] Every kingdom keeps a list, Names etched in gold and etiquette. Doors opened wide for those expected, Locked tight for those misunderstood. And then there is her, The name no one dares decide. [Verse 2 – spoken with slow, echoing calm] She walked these halls before crowns learned balance, Before magic needed permission. Power clung to her like memory, Old, patient, and unashamed. They called her dark Because light refused to name what it owed her. [Verse 3 – spoken with quiet, reflective restraint] She does not demand applause, Nor does she beg for favor. She only notices absence, And remembers it perfectly. A chair left empty Is still a choice. [Verse 4 – spoken with ceremonial precision] Thorns rise where she steps, Not from anger, But from truth. The land recognizes her sovereignty Even when the court pretends not to. [Verse 5 – spoken with tightening, prophetic weight] Curses are not born in cruelty. They grow in the shade of neglect. A slight ignored becomes a legend, A silence becomes a spell, And regret learns how to sleep for a hundred years. [Verse 6 – spoken with calm, final authority] She does not ruin celebrations. She corrects them. Balances the story with a single sentence History will call excessive Only because it survived. [Outro – spoken with soft finality] So remember this, When candles glow and bells are rung. Though you may regret it, always invite Maleficent. Better an invite denied than having her show up uninvited.
