Oh the tragedy that surrounds my birth…
A family in mourning…
An absent father…
A woman carrying a warrior in her womb
She searches for her husband
He wears a mask of a holy and righteous man
But come the night…
A woman from the brothels will open her legs
Without a fight
- So long as she gets her gold
-She will gladly do as she is told
But the one who wears the gold on her finger
Will greet him dutifully and obediently
When he returns in the morning.
Oh the tragedy that surrounds my birth
Maybe I should never have been born…
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