The Fair Lady of Rivenspire ::

[Wackadoodle0987]

This is just a really crap ballad about one of my characters, Amelie Montclair, otherwise heralded as the Fair Lady of Rivenspire.


Cool as a winter mist, she,
Whom flies with the birds so high;
But silently sings,
As she flutters her wings;
Thou'd never hear her thunderous cry.


A dove among pigeons one might say,
So peaceful, pale and kind.
But with her eagle eyes, 
She spies from the skies,
And a crueller image in mind.


Our fair lady, our fair lady.
Our fair lady arise.


With white locks so fine.
And pale skin so fair,
A truest beauty beyond compare.


But beware her guise,
For behind that prize,
Lies a cruel, dark look in her eyes.


Our fair lady, our fair lady.
Our fair lady arise.


A rose in a bush of thorns,
Precious, pure and proud,
But you'll soon know,
Those thorns are her own,
And you'll feel their bite somehow.


Her breath a bitter wind,
Her skin as pure as snow,
But for crimson lips,
As the crimson drips,
There a darker colour shows.


Our fair lady, our fair lady.
Our fair lady arise.


With white locks so fine,
And pale skin so fair,
No other like her there is out there.


But beware her stare,
Lest you be ensnared,
In her bitter black web of despair.


Our fair lady, our fair lady.
Our fair lady rise, rise, rise!