The Witcher

The Witcher

When modest bard rested after work he's done
With Geralt of Rivia this song he sung.
With lofty devil the White Wolf fought till death
The cohorts of elves, he ripped apart, were countless.
They crawled from behind, though it's shame and disgrace
They broke my lute and rearranged my face.
That devil aimed its horn straight into my eye
And then the Witcher shouted " Your time has come to die!"

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