Murtagh's Torment

Self loathing and hate swirl in my head,
Tears of hot anger roll down my face.
Evil and darkness molds my heart into lead,
Horrible memories that time can’t erase.

Blind with fury, I ram my fist into the wall,
And I can hear the crunching of my knuckles breaking.
Trapped and encased in the Dark King’s thrall.
It matters not to me that my hand is aching.

With a few mumbled words I heal my bones,
The pain was a distraction but now it is numb.
From the Soothsayer Hall, a young woman moans.
Throughout all of that pain, unscathed she will come.

Her despairing cries shatter my heart,
As I touch the hot metal to her bare skin.
The sight of her burns rips my soul apart,
Tears stream down my face again.

I want her to know how I feel,
Ensnared and forced to do the King’s will.
An oath holds me down with chains of steel.
If I could take up my sword, the king I would kill.

Night is falling as I walk into the room.
I release her from her bonds and hold her close.
If I was found, it would surely mean my doom,
But I carefully keep my presence disclosed.

In the Ancient Language I heal her sores,
She thanks me and begins to weep.
Deep inside my madness roars.
Her immense pain cuts too deep.

I will free her if it is the last thing I do.
Thorn and I will break her out of this place,
Just to hear her melodic voice say “Murtagh, Thank you.”
And to see a beautiful smile spread on her face.