Poetry?

Snow White?

Her hair was raven black
Her lips were ruby red
Her skin was pasty white
Too young to already be dead

In a glass coffin they placed her
To preserve a woman so fair
Knowing not what they harbored
As she silently laid there

'Twas the "Sleeping Death," they called it
For it stood the test of time
Agelessly her body lay
The evil queen yet to pay for her crime

And so time passed
The hour grew near
For a prince to kiss the love of his life
To awaken she who he held dear

Soft lips pressed to each other
Eyes fluttering open then
Hypnotic, erotic
Distracting from her plan

With lighting speed she moved to sate
A sick craving for his blood
One that had grown to massive proportions
During the extended wait

She drained the life from her sweet love
Until he struggled no more
Before moving on to smaller targets
Fellows with small beds and small doors.

From that day onward rumors spread
Of the deceiving beauty who used to be dead.
With lips like blood and skin so white
Forever she'd be called Snow Bite.