With a harness of steel and a tempered blade
An equestrian seeks out traces of a runaway
Led to these torrid lands by a lonely mage
From the tallest towers of Zul-Bha-Sair's sage
The haunted escapee, in Zothique
The baccante sorceress, she's of mystique
Raised from beyond, no longer dead
Roam barren lands, from a God she fled
Flee!
Flee!
Flee!
Flee!
Flee!
Flee!
Flee!
Stench of fear in the air and he spots her in the bower
The reared horse with the knight smothering the witches' power
The sheathed sword on his belt, rattling no less than armor
Given by Pharazyn, the infamous enchanter
And responding to her witchcraft, oscillating out loud
His sharp weapon at his side stirs the quiet of the mount
He alights now, bares his brand, hearkening to every sound
All of the sudden, she exhales, fearing that she'll be found
Nowhere to run
From the wrong she has done
It is useless to cry
It is her fate to die
His will won't be denied
With her last breath
In a sorrowful death
She will beg that she's freed
On his sword she'll bleed!
She will rue her misdeed!
And the reek of death fills the marsh
That soon will be
Scorched to its soil in one flash
Daunted eyes pilfering the tears of the tarrier
Those ardent tears adorn her face dismayed
And singing silently rain claims them away
As dour doom is seen in the motions of the swift and bold warrior
Owned by the one who devours souls on his altar
Staring in her eyes, he lifts up the sigil hilt above her
Flash of the blade
And her life starts to fade
In a few seconds time
She had paid for her crime
Those who live again, die!
Warrior's eyes
Still look as cold as ice
Once he gets off his steed
On his sword she'll bleed!
She will rue her misdeed!
As she'll be fed to Mordiggian, yeah!
A lifeless look on her face on the way back to the charnel
