Duke's Song
Written by Annete Osier

I still have dreams of gold,
of women pouring wine into my cup,
of some massasing my tired musles
of the lair of theifs,
the sound of blazing red fires in the kichen
the smell of worms cooking
and the clanging of golden trays
 
Those days are gone 
replaced by the sound of metal doors clanging,
of myself pouring milk 
my musles aching as I try to sleep
The lair of sinners and thiefs
is now a headquarters of goodness
no sins of a thief are here.

I walk down daily to the ready room
There I see what doom I face
Somedays I dream of winning this war,
going back home, being pardoned
starting over.
but that would be a dream
a dream lost in battle
I pray in the temple daily 
That I would die in battle 
so I would go home a hero
but I would be put down in history
as a lowly theif a murderer
As I lay myself down on this bed to rest
I close my eyes and dream 
Of the temple
of the preist
of the statue
of the feast
that celebrates 
Duke L'Orange
The Redeemed Theif

Annette Osier