I Am the Wench's Bane - Mael Mórdha

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