Grief as her gown she waded the wasteland
Searching for traces or faces in the sand
She feared she’d soon go insane
Through countless days and nights she sought for someone
But there was no one else under the sun
All her cries rang in vain

But nesting on a dead tree’s branches
The maiden
Saw a raven
He told her of his fate of misery
The story
Of ill glory
The poor soul was cast from his home
The star-crossed
Now like her, lost
She gave her word to help his cause
The raven
Led the maiden

The raven led her ‘cross the dry land
And brought her to where they would make a stand
A lush tree sparkling with gold
Said the bird: “here are my foes
The roots of all evil and all my woes
Fire them down, for their sins untold!”

The twisted tongue took her astray
The maiden
And the raven
Aimed her bow at heaven’s clouds
The arrows
Pierced the sparrows
As the raven robbed their gold
The horror
Dawned upon her
She then saw her friend had lied
The maiden
Slew the raven

Once again misled
Hopeless tears she shed

No one left to call
She wept: “So another Ophelia falls”

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