Mael Mordha I Am The Wench's Bane
Two souls collide in the depth of a night
Fraught with fate
They circle and weave patterns intricate
Swirls of darkness and light
Intertwine hypnotically
Shades of love and hate
Siren and Jester, Wench and her Bane
Two of a forgotten race
Dispatched by their own hands
To an undying land
Fraught with a hidden Sorrow
The Siren did quench Her Spirit
In an attempt to find peace
While the Jester played a dying tune
Full of pity and despair
Dreams drift through such trees that lie within
Winds fly harmlessly overhead
In silence does the Siren watch the wind
Now caress the Mind of One alone
Again and again it blows
Howling through the trees
Fear envelopes Sidhe
Who would now be Wench
Her Bane has arrived
The familiar dashed as souls collide
