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Rated: E · Poetry · Satire · #1649312
The curse of truth.
The selfish knight on his loyal steed,
Seizing his sword with promise and greed.
Upon the map, his treasure there lies,
A fortune so full, and its heiress so wise.
For she knew true of this knight’s chores -
His greedy pursuit of riches and whores.
So both she waited night and day,
For this daft knight - she will betray.

The knight came trotting up the crest,
As the sun just had laid to rest,
And there upon his loyal steed,
Did he sing his song of greed:
“Stallion, stallion. Here we are at last!
Kings of kings, a trap I shall cast!
Let’s look for the maiden with all her gold,
I’ll woo her and lure her ‘til its all mine to hold!
With her at my feet and the wealth in my hands,
I shall rule the world and all of its lands!!!”

And this wise heiress of all the riches,
Had secretly summoned all her witches.
Her precious mistresses of the damned,
Would help the Lady with her plan.
And so did the selfish knight fall,
As their spells did sing their call.
And his knees slid ‘cross the ground,
And the siren Lady did bend down.

Took him by his neck,
And this song she did eject:
“Dearest knight, dearest lad,
What has made you gone so mad?
Once a time, you were gracious and good,
And your heart was clean and could
Be of such great things and such great tiding.
But your abuse and all your lying -
You rage thus far, with your spoiled heart,
There is no punishment apart
Than what your life shall give to you -
Everything that can’t be true.
Everything you can’t understand,
Will be of your only demand.

Dear boy, I leave you with a curse,
That you may find a little worse
Than your insatiable life here,
May you look upon your mirror
And see your beautiful face
Crumble into what you will not bear to face.

We give you a curse from light.
So you can see with eyes more bright.
That your insides are black with human disgust.
And smothered with all of Greed's lust.
You must learn to live
You must learn to give.

Learn to be naught with desires.
And will your heart bloom with fires.
And the curse will be gone,
Until you return to this bitter strong.
If you yet return to this malevolent beast.
Then will yourself decay to the very least
With the poison of all uncouth
This is the dreaded curse of your truth.”

The Lady Siren stood back up,
Pointing her finger straight and abrupt.
Dismissing the ugly, mutilated knight away.
And her mistresses of the damned, they did not stay,

For they knew as well as she,
That her curse would not be,
As she too was selfish and sinful.
In numb pursuit of riches full.
She had stabbed her prince in the heart,
So she could have her gold to start.

And the witches, whence they came,
And gave the beautiful maiden the name
Of the Lady Siren, as she could woo,
Until her grace had left her too.
Stripped her of her beauty and her youth
With the dreaded curse of her truth.
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