All began with rage of stolen power
A queen was taken from her secret tower
Her fiery hair let loose upon the wind
He took her arm and freely did she sin
A force of arms, ten thousand men were sent
To eer the will of Troy the city bent
In blood-bathed streets the children laid across
As melting heat turned stone and mud to frost
Down steps she came and wept at what she saw
Her skin was writhing with the pain of all
But still she stayed and the last war drew cold,
And years of souls flew through the gates so old.
But when they flew and end had surely come
A gift was left to see it all undone.