That singing of Madame Red, as the musicians accompany her, resonates through the room. The masquerade ball is in place this evening in the Great Court.
His Majesty had prepared the finest treat for all the guests tonight.
Dinner tables are filled with finest food, finest wine,
And all that is in view oozes – “Divine”.
The pace of the evening is spinning their heads,
With so much to devour, as mind hangs by threads.
“My dears, we today celebrate the great night of Moon!
Not only the time is so blessed so soon,
But victory shines in our steps!
We’ve conquered the land that had brought on the hex!”
The clapping and cheering resounded in room,
As voices were chattering appraising the fun.
The Lord stood so tall and so pleased with his words,
Continuing speech he had raised hand, as swords.
“We’ve made the right choice by upholding
The power bestowed by the Morrigan.
Her blessing had saved us this morning,
As that attack we began!”
“The grey sky and darkness had bled upon land that was hexed
The men on that side,
With great tide,
Fell bare on the knees, lost and perplexed!”
“May all we be blessid by grace of the Morrigan!”
Cheers, cups held up in the hands,
And the joy with such ends
The light had to jolt, as entered a man.
“With this blade the heathens were down!”
He pulled out the sword with the name “Sandastan”
“May force of this weapon be shield to this land
May never another be slayed by thy hand!”
The end of the evening was greatly repainted
The splashes of blood spilled on all of their hatred
With calm, no remorse, just conducting the job
Dear Morrigan held her attained blessid sword.