Fighting was never who I was.
But that was before…
Before all the demons, before the tyrannical “king”
Who I just knew had to be slew…
Before…
I found my mother?

Now, there was posturing and negotiations.
Now, there were miles of red tape that no one seemed to have the scissors for.
Now, there was me, tying silken ribbons over scars so old that
The trees have trouble remembering…
Now, there was me, doing the best I could.
But it was never quite good enough, was it?

The mountains and the trees and the winds would sing of this.
But the song would be full of sorrow.