The princess, sleeping like a flower,
Awaits the chime of the midnight hour
So she may dance within her dreams,
A blossom 'neath the moon's pale beams.
She twirls upon a floor of glass ~
Her waltz, a memory of the past,
Wilted echoes of tinkling laughter
When once she lived in ever after.

Flickering lights have now shown
The ghostly petals across the room.
Happiness forever caught in time,
Which awakens at the midnight chime

With hints of jasmine in the wind,
Promises the bloom would never end.
But the floor of glass has turned to stone.
Now she dances all alone.