The fair maiden sobbed and mourned
The death of men who had been warned
Of the witch who spilled the blood of men,
Had killed and yet would kill again.
The sound of her tears travelled afar,
To a sorcerer who always kept his doors ajar,
To help and lend his talents and might,
In flaming days and darkest nights.
And in his crystal clear ball,
The sorcerer saw the witch's gall,
The fair maiden, tied and scarred,
And her exit that still was barred.
The sorcerer saw the beauty beneath
The rags & scars & then did he seethe
And raged to save the maiden's honour,
And lift the indignity upon her.
He charged upon his stallion white,
Into the dark with his brilliant light;
Then the witch did stand no chance,
When the white sorcerer had taken his stance.
He battled her dark gifts and bled,
Into the earth that turned red,
And then called up the warrior goddess,
Cause the lineage he shared with her was flawless.
This is a story of bravery & valour,
Of blood & bone, gruesome and gore;
Of a battle fought with Honour,
To stop the indignity upon her.
And so the good won over evil,
Ending our tale medieval,
In saving the maiden from her captor,
The sorcerer and she lived happily thereafter.
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