Shadows lurk throughout the forsaken fields,
With shrieks of misfortune infecting the land,
Broken trees grow from sated seeds,
Yet her grace fights the unruly hand
Faith born blind from destiny’s fallacy,
And light seems dull on morning’s embrace,
The crows coo at their gaudy legacy,
But she fights with verbosity and haste.
T’was it a dream that shrouded the eyes,
Of the masses who fear her essence?
Or was it the man who uttered in lies,
The truth of kings and lonesome peasants.
She adores the souls of virtuous intent,
And fights the men of evil, malevolence.
