O Princess of the Moon and Stars
I beg you grace this mortal voice
To tell the story of a scar
That led to final tragic choice

Upon a town of no remark
Along the shores where monsters tread
A song does slither from the dark
Sung by Three who spun their threads

And when our Heroes do approach
To find the mob of thralls in wait
Enchanted with a dread reproach
Channelling Sirenic hate

With Sorcery and Healing both
A spell to spread a tincture cast
To turn their rancour into sloth
A lazy slumber most steadfast

Onwards to a cave aglow
Luminous with hateful wealth
A treasure not in gems or gold
But power drained from others' health

Deep within the Sirens' lair
Hubris now exacts its toll
An unseen censor taints the air
With music that would fain cajole

To the Sorcerer a throne
Befitting of his intellect
To the Gardener a home
With flowers most sublime bedecked

The Legionnaire his glory due
Beneath a gilded laurel crown
The Healer and the Hopeful too
A world where pain is never known

Blinded by a light so false
With wisdom born of naught but lies
Our Heroes dance a deadly waltz
A war to see their final prize

Then a deadly blow is struck
By one most Mighty at the Helm
Titanic Strength as axe is stuck
Within these beasts to save the realm

For the Mighty Helm had all
He ever wanted in this world
The Strength to save his friends and haul
Them out of danger afterwards

One by one the others stir
Embarrassment and gratitude
As each recall the lies they spur
Rejecting former attitude

For a throne breeds laziness
And Beauty comes but from within
A crown is most extraneous
And Sadness is but Joy's true kin

Celebration in the town
The Sirens slain, then banished hence
So drink your fill until you drown
In triumph of our common sense

Yet this tale speaks but of Six
For there is one whose mind did not
Escape that cave and Sirens' tricks
And so that night began to plot

With poisoned wisdom did his soul
Now rot with every passing night
Until, at last, they say he stole
The treasures which would grant him might

And so begins another tale
One wreathed in shadows and despair
Another time we might regale
With final fall and final snare

But for now I humbly ask
For vigilance towards your friends
That seeds deceitful cannot bask
In light that shines from darker ends