Chapter Text
Oh how the masks do fit on all the fair faces:
Like a song, a dress and a coat made of laces.
It swirls and it stills ever growing the beat.
It rises and falls, a most terrible treat.
Oh king of the fae put back on your mask:
Step out to the shadows and openly bask.
They adore you for you made their enemies few,
But they will never forget the lies of the true.
Oh courtier of cunning a fair mask you wear:
Oh what shall you do? Oh what do you dare?
You love so your king that they all give eyes.
You wish to guard him, protect him from lies.
Oh lowly lost brother, mask back into place:
Your unending charm will sway him from grace;
You will tear him down to the rot that he is.
He will be gone, no more will be his.
Oh queen of the feather with mask on the heart:
You watch and you throw your dagger of art.
You have the great wisdom of knowing your own.
Oh throw loose the dagger and cut to the bone.
The youth is the mask of the boy of the trees:
A storm it is coming, it raises the breeze,
But fear not young child, the solider he comes.
The storm it will fall to the king’s mighty drums.
Oh mask wearers dance in the light of the fires:
Oh dance and dance you kingdom of liars,
But you shall not die for the liars live long.
You may be now weak but you ever grow strong.