Mistress of Wolves

The Mistress of the Wolves

These grounds she haunts

These fields she reaps

These tales she tells

Through blood spilt on grain, her song is sung

Through parched lips

Through battered lungs

From tithes taken, unlawfully won

Here are their raped daughters

Here are their fallen sons

Mistress of Wolves, hear our sad cries

Of widowed wives

Of dishonored brides

Give us succor in vengeance won

Give us blood

Spilt from the vine

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