We were so young and she was my bride.
Safe from corruption and sickness with eyes of a child.
They'd fall at her feet, the legions of man;
Struck by some fictional famine at the wave of her hand.
Dictating law she'd pull from the cards,
Four swords present themselves swiftly but still it's so hard.
Time cannot pass in her circular thoughts;
Restless confusion, she's tangled still in these knots.