The Greyy Area (The Thin Greyy Line)

“The Bard’s Song” Once the waves claimed her They took her body and soul. To return her to land would take the death watch hand A few steel bars or a cage. In a Mountain dark and sinister The rocks play tricks and deceive When a pure magic in Ale turns To the stale and impotent vein, A life and breath turns wicked And sick, becoming a vice for a Witch. My hero, My Captain, alone in her cell Answering the call of the just Her poetry and grace earns her a place At the table, The Emperor’s right hand. She dances with Nobles but lives with the rubbish, Her hands are worn and harsh But her heart is big as the ocean she loves She is my hero, my captain.