Ah, Viper, I am thy tooth:
This worldly man that haunts these halls!
Judge me not, ye Riders and Kings,
Look not with hate upon me, my Maiden,
I am he that moves in the penumbra
I am he that poisons,
I am he that sickens the hearty.
Ah, my once Golden King,
Thy seat is worn by thy weight;
How swift does the Age crumble
When I am the black jewel in its crown!
My words have run through,
My wills have made camp,
My battle is won not by the sword.
Oh, you Cunning One,
How little do you think of me!
How can you have made your power
If naught by my willingness to play the fool!
I’ve struck at the House that kept me,
Laughed at the owunds of my Home,
I’ve went so far as to love she that runs from me…
Only to make you proud.
But you do not share your joys,
Nor shall I share my mind forever…
My tongue shall lash out at thee,
And I will laugh over you, oh Cunning One!