I take off my battered helm and glance again at this barren battlefield,
Too long I’ve fought, too long I’ve resisted, and even now, I cannot yield,
My armor’s rusted down the sides and dented in along the hinges,
My eyes trace across the horizon, they are scanning this fauna’s fringes.
This chain pressed o’er my breast feels heavier than a brick,
The coldness of this studded steel threatens to make me sick,
And every thought deems you the martyr and I the villain of this scene,
You, the fallen ruler of a once respected kingdom, and I, the wicked queen.
My magic’s run out and no longer can I place these restraints upon my soul,
My mind’s split into two halves that somehow don’t fit to make a whole,
I’m a broken jigsaw puzzle, complete but for one piece
Which has been granted to the devil, the demon’s quite release.
My hands linger over my sabre, they yearn for fresh blood,
My fingers dirtied by the fight, covered in thickened mud,
I draw my blade and hold it blindly to the flesh above my throat,
Send off into the Seven Kingdoms, my last wish – my last note.