Matthew checked once more,
To see a path unblocked,
Now was their chance to slip past eyes trained to claim,
Any lives that should remain,
Upon Sharin's unenslaved domain.
Still locked in preferred mind space,
Janet curled around a toy shaped like a weapon,
It made her giddy and brought gay laughter to a tragic background,
She was out of place, yet I couldn't tear her away from it,
Matthew tried to lend her a hand she had no interest in taking,
This world was rotten, her past wasn't here anymore,
Song had locked it away.

Beside her blueberry carriage,
Arranged to golden marriage,
Ran six purebred horses, carrying blue upon gloves,
Hands around both reins and spear,
Looked onward towards the waking fear,
No vassals opposed to our stay and goes,
Could bring the stench of defeat up to my nose,
Our family knows best, since it was us who brought them down,
Ripped free from dragon skulls, a hefty well-deserved crown.
Cruel emerald tendrils, rooted in betrayal,
Scrapped against her insides, cutting wounds to bleed,
Often her agony tempted cries to ring out, but fear clenched her choice,
I was born a snake, so I will live as such.

Andulan grew tired of the rocky road ahead,
It prevented her from resting her head,
Against her sorely missed entitlement.
Those **** vines, running alongside my natural veins,
Have they no respect for their own host?
Ever since green mixed with white,
Trusted, swallowed, filled with light,
Against a suddenly shaded backdrop, that slunk away,
That door creepily closed, as if by itself.
Discomfort would break engagement against ground,
Her present was often plucked down back to pain,
That angelic body of mine, assigned by father and given by mother,
I'll never have another...

Decimated and piled upon soaked wagons,
Carted in by droves, dead flesh once proud to stand ready,
Beside admirable men, women and a cause worth dying for,
Many voices, stilled by thoughts of we'll be without.
Implored them to check their doubt, but they wanted rain for drought,
Windows caressed by holy light, no vile sounds behind to blind or misguide,
From arms the forge would glow, returning status to unspecified use,
Abuses avenged and directed from future paths, would bring legitimate tears,
To all surviving souls,
I'm in need of men like you, wielding music as a tool to shatter crests of oppression,
Will you join our cause and bring pause to that symphony?

John supported their cause,
by raising voice above the noise,
Collected in Rick's mind.
Numberless melodies both new and old,
Offered him tales still left untold,
Prying wouldn't do, Sharin taught him modesty,
Politely ask them why, the notes above them tremble so.
Relevancy is the key to action she told him, never open a locked box,
Check to see if its lid is slightly freed, if not move on to the next melody,
Salvation is denied by those unreceptive to it, a sign its not needed,
Is the sound of life well lived.

These weren't hardened heroes,
Nor men with knees to bend.
He wouldn't offer them candy, or a cup of brandy.
Wine tasted awful, swill fit for fools,
Prienne's fearful tools.
Stillness gave them measure, much more than beyond,
Song was a weapon he had no means to produce,
Vocal cords of such quantity couldn't bring odds to bear,
Upon the likeliest of hoods that could wrap around his head,
Full of idealism, hopes of freedom and amnesty,
From an execution savored by the cleansed palate,
Of Toblin's passed on habit.
Lifted by a song leashed fellow,
Final crows and ravens would bellow,
As age revealed him a discheveled fellow.
Beneath a shroud of regret.
That blade could whistle his name but,
A crowd of ravenous onlookers,
Engorged on death and bloodied wine,
Wouldn't say his name in time.

Cornelius wanted loyal soldiers,
More creases added to the fold,
But bluntly he was told,
Such tactics were too old.
Lest we all burn in owned fires,
Song must replace silence, for it is venom,
Tainted song is the same, sinister and deadly,
Sharin sheltered sanctified shepherds,
Gladly guiding hands away from one's own demons,
Towards new purpose, reason away from destruction,
Bathed in loss we shook off the rain and dried ourselves.
In her teachings we found our broken bodies renewed by determination,
Hard fought joy amidst the urge to just lay down,
Counting our last syllables.