It started with a devious question
And the answer was clear
To all
But a curious faction
Fueled by fear,
With the means to concoct
A Djeirian plot
That rendered hate normal,
Like scripts to study.

Let the Bards take their bow.

"She should be overthrown," said
A lady in the marketplace
With a red cap
And matching rouge on her face.
Her eyes spewed fire;
Mine stayed on the prize.
Bypassing the wares,
She ordered dozen roses,
To no surprise.

Let the Bards take their bow.

She had a revolution to catch.
One I'd missed like the night
Bonfiloro, Ricci, voice like the muse
Dead in a pool of crimson
Sparing none to spread the news
And start the revolution,
an Empress renewed.

Let the Bards take their bow.

Penned by my hand on Quensday, the 15th of Lleian, in the year 501 MA.