The Dream of the Bard's Apprentice

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By: Zathael Posted on: November 07, 2005

This to the Bardlet, starward bound,
Who, though the thought does give him pause,
Anticipates that joyous noise
The roar of thunderous applause.

To wear the gems and cloth of gold
And live within a palace great
Where coffers filled with wealth untold
His every whim, facilitate

He'll stride the world with naught to fear
Protected by a mighty song
His swordsmanship without a peer
Unchallenged be he right or wrong

But humbly begins the bard
With not a sovereign to his name
He'll have to fight and struggle hard
To one day rise to wealth and fame

Upon Scarlatti's furrowed brow
Our hope and inspiration born
To see the glade and silver bough
Where now rests only bramble's thorn