The curse of the third
If sisters three will curse, the cursed will curse the Others free. The white flakes hides the beastly truth that underneath are red drops seeping, trough frozen ground silently weeping. Away they walked that broke that shell and left the burned downed ones to hell. But spring will come in this new land and what they brought by sisters hands was that deceiving jealousy and magic eases easily its way when These Ones teases thee. Below beneath that whited veil, the blood of left ones nourished well, a rose bush grew soon by bloody stead, with roses red. And up its stealthy oily sap we swim to have them in their nap. The little ones which fingers curiously will find a thorn and find it pricke-ly through such a way we find it opens, opens doors that leads Our way, Our way to new lands as they say.
And by a prickeling of a thumb the Wicked soon to them will come.