Black turns to grey as night gives into the day
A rustling of leaves, its silence betrayed into the clearing it appears
A great white stag of myth and lore, a legend no more
And so he lies in wait, and a razor sharp arrow awaits his command
The beast lies bleeding down upon the ground blood seeps into the earth
He watches it die in the cold morning light
Then a gate of moss and stone begins to rise
Crumbling earth, creatures scatter before its form
The king steps forth with his antlers of bone
Pale expressionless face, mouth sewn shut
With eyes as white as snow
Outstretched hands they reach for the man, bring him to their land
Escorted by a cavalry riding beasts bizarre
Down the path lies torches of black, leading to the throne
And to the throne they go
With their sorcery they suspend him higher
Now he’s face to face eye to eye with the king
He will be judged for taking its life away
The sound of the crowd is far too much to bear
The smell of wine and booming laughter pervades the night
The trial of his life will begin tonight
“For the rest of your days you will wander this land with no tongue or eyes. But I will gift you with hearing so you can hear the cries. Of the others who wander through this land in the realm where I rule. In the realm, in this realm. I’m the Keeper of the Woods.”
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