I wrote this poem years back, inspired heavily by Labyrinth. Specifically, a certain ballroom scene. It has since undergone heavy revision to turn it from strictly a fan poem to something more original, but I think the spirit of Labyrinth - and Jareth and Sarah - still resides within.

There is supposed to be actual formatting on this - specifically, the first and fourth line of every stanza is to be indented, but this site hates formatting, so...

I had this posted here years back. Forget exactly why I removed it. I think because somebody tried to steal it and claim it as theirs. Please don't do that. It hurts my feelings. And really pisses me off.

Hopeless Love (Confronting the Villain)

A Villain and a Heroine.
A story told in rhyme.
The blush of love's awakening
as hearts are intertwined.
 What shall this Ever After bring?
A bridal veil, a golden ring?
But Fate seems such a fickle thing
when love is on the line.

Our tale unfolds beneath the boughs
of ancient woodland glade,
where night-wind stirs the restless leaves
and moonlight-dappled shade
 as shards of crystal, deadly, gleaming,
weave the threads of magic's seeming.
Caught within this web of Dreaming
sleeps the spellbound maid.

A chamber of immensity
immersed in candlelight,
bedecked in glowing tapestry
and hung with streamer bright.
Before her dazed and dreaming eyes
the spell begins to hypnotize,
the fantasy to mesmerize
with each bewitching sight.

She moves among the opulence
unwary of the jeers
and taunting of the occupants
whose laughter sounds like tears.
Fine Dancers garbed in bright array
all move with purpose; bodies sway
enticingly in lewd display
discrepant of their sneers.

Unwary still, she pushes through
the crowd of grasping hands.
An unknown countenance she seeks,
the stranger who commands
her thrumming heart, her quickened breath;
he brushes by as soft as death,
and leaves her searching and bereft,
a pawn to his demands.

The kaleidoscope of color parts.
There stands the one she seeks.
His alluring gaze beguiles
and her will is growing weak.
His words begin to mesmerize
as silver tongue seeps honeyed lies.
She stands enraptured by his eyes
and finds she cannot speak.

Into his arms he takes her then
as into dance they're spun,
and something magic fills his eyes,
for Something has begun.
His step is sure, his touch is strong.
He woos her with a velvet song,
assuring her that she belongs;
there is no need to run.

And yet, mistrust is not dispelled.
Uneasiness remains
that alluring words cannot suppress.
His spell cannot restrain
the suspicion that there's much amiss.
And as he bends to take her kiss
the doubt drives back enchanted bliss.
Her reason is regained.

Now Dancers start to press her in
and masked eyes glitter coldly.
Their lips are twisted sneers of hate
as rough hands clutch her boldly.
Their laughter mocking, vile rasps
upon her ears, she cuts their grasps
and stumbles through the sea of masks
amid their howling glee.

His song still haunts her memory,
his eyes she can't escape.
He holds her soul in jeopardy,
and yet her will is great.
She fights to break his strong command.
He pleads with her to understand
the gift he holds in outstretched hand
as through glass walls she breaks.

Then screams of horror fill the air
and ends the mocking laughter,
and everything begins to fall
as all ends in disaster.
Yet Dancers still mechanically
sway to discordant melody,
for even now they are not free;
they'll dance forever after.

Amid this broken spell she stands,
her enemy she faces.
Her Dream is winding to its end
as to an end Time paces.
From 'midst the shadows he appears.
His face has aged a hundred years.
His ancient eyes hold all the fears
of a hundred ancient races.

Now pale mist gathers like a wraith
about his weary form,
and garbs him in a shroud of gray;
a bit of darkness shorn.
His haunted eyes are begging, pleading,
and his soul is wounded, bleeding.
Hopeless love, so ever-fleeting,
hearts forever torn.

Now resonates a somber bell;
the hour is at hand.
The Villain knows his Heroine
must make the final stand.
Determination conquers fear.
Compassion has no holding here,
yet, shining in her eye—a tear.
She gives him her Command.

And even as she speaks
the world's foundations start to quake.
The very air surrounding them
begins to heave and shake.
Still comes the tolling of the bell,
obliterating faerie spell.
The Dream—a fragile, shining shell—
is shattered in its wake.

She knows her choice is right,
that he was never meant to stay,
but his gaze still pierces through her soul
and tempts her heart to stray.
This tale has reached its bitter end,
for even True Love cannot bend
the rules of iron. In the end
the Story has its way.

Upon awakening, she grieves
the loss of her romance,
the truest love she'll never know
reflected in his glance.
But in her dreams, she'll stand before
the threshold of Enchantment's door.
She's bound to him forevermore.
Forever shall they Dance.