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I must contain my anger, or I won't control my power-
But gods! How long I've waited just to see this very hour!
It's just as well I'm not the one who calls the storm of fire---
Or I would turn this battle plain into your funeral pyre!
The priests all say I must not hate--- but I will not pretend.
I saw the wreck you made of her, my Herald and my friend---
The scars you left in flesh and soul will be so slow to fade---
Oh, would I had your coward heart beneath my naked blade!
I must control my rage, or lose ability to plan,
I must direct the fight from here, not charging in the van.
As you will likewise do, no doubt, for all that you are cruel
And revel in shed blood and pain, I think you are no fool.
But in the name of all the gods, you're all that I despise,
Who planned to take by treachery my kingdom as your prize---
My throne, my child, my people. All, you plotted to despoil---
By tricks that only miracles enabled us to foil.
I must control my fury or let slip all that I've sought-
But vengeance would not be enough for all the grief you've wrought.
Gods grant this day you fall beneath the steel of me and mine---
And drink full deeply of defeat, that cold and bitter wine.
My crown is on my brow, my naked blade within my hand.
My army like an eager hound lies waiting my command.
With how you tortured, killed and lied revealed to them this day---
By all the stars that ever shone,
By all the gods, known and unknown,
For Herald Kris and my Queen's Own---
I swear that you will pay!
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