Willow Woods

In the willow woods, by a shady tree there resides a secret mystery By a patch of moss, under lock and key it’s shrouded in deep history In a rusted box, with a hidden drawer deep in the earth of the forest floor there exists the ring steeped in folk lore which only one man has worn before Through the frozen snow, through the winter gray he rode his horse on his wedding day he kissed his bride and then turned to pray while her life in an instant slipped away In the willow woods, through the covered leaves there existed a band of drunken thieves Their arrows dipped in poison bereaved and pierced the heart of the maiden that eve. The ring around his finger quickly burned with a guttural scream he left her and turned toward the raid on the men who his recompense earned with an anger of prophets his soul wrenched and yearned Alone in the aftermath forever more the ring from his finger he savagely tore and rode to the willow woods ancient shore to become the legends of old folklore.