The Stolen Slippers

Title: The Stolen Slippers

In mirthful dreamscapes of a stolen treasure,
A dying thief sought solace with great measure,
To steal the ruby slippers, famed and bright,
From Garland’s shrine, hidden in the night.

Within the walls where memories reside,
The stolen slippers sang a mournful tide,
No prison time for the thief’s partaking,
As fate embraced the thief, souls were breaking.

Once worn by Dorothy, adored with glee,
Those glittering slippers filled hearts with esprit,
Now in the hands of a desperate thief,
The ruby shoes bore a tale of grief.

The museum wept for the loss they bore,
The stolen slippers, seen nevermore,
Yet the thief’s final days were clothed in tears,
Repenting a choice burdened by fears.

Oh, the irony of the thief’s waning time,
No prison bars could confine his crime,
A dying soul, haunted by his past,
Seeking redemption till his breath was last.

Now, the stolen slippers rest once more,
Returned to the museum’s sacred floor,
A tale of a thief, seeking to atone,
In this stolen moment, his soul was shown.