Brilliance is its own reward
The Sun glanced off my shining shield
And all those who gazed upon me
Were blinded by my audacity.
My helm was tall, my spear was sharp
I strummed the strings on my golden harp
My flag bore the shape of a silver whale
The ocean is from where I set sail.
Pallor is its own reward
The Moon glanced off my dark deception
And all who stepped in my shadow depart
Obscurity veiled my heart.
The sky is red, the moon is blue
Where I am from the pines are new
I chase my ambition in hot pursuit
I wear on my foot a winged boot.
I chase the golden apples
They were stolen from my tree
And in my heart I bear the image
Of the woman who stole them from me.
The golden apples in her hands
Guide me to her bower
My spear in hand I fly
Lightening sears the tower.
I throw back my hand, I cast my spear
Her eyes plead for mercy
She knows death is near
Obscurity veils her face.
Within her eyes, in the depths of the sea
The whale sings of her theft
My path in brilliance now stands clear
Her heart with my spear is cleft.
My audacity did not save my life
From the poison that stained my shining hand
I watched my brilliant soul depart
My boots lay on the blood stained land.
Now my golden harp I play
On the wave that carried me away
I sing the songs fortune foretold
That I would die from being bold.
My fingers pick a lively tune
My eyes behold the waxing Moon
She lifts me over onto the shore
And bids me be brilliantly bold once more.
I run on the sands with the joy of a child
I am alive and feeling wild
I ache to pick the golden strings
I shall seek out a tavern where I will sing.
Hail the world! I am a bard!
I’ve learned my lesson well
Of all things great there’s this I’ll tell,
Virtue is its own reward.