All 4 Parts Sung with suno-ai:
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔩 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩 (An Empty Spaces Epic) - Chapter 1 The Witch and Her Servant
This one is The Prodigal Doll, a once-lost returnee.
A broken and repaired mismatch of various parts.
Walking in the wide world as a ronin, the master-less combat doll of legend.
Formerly in the employ of a slew of evil gods and sorcerers,
This one is now free.
The tale of how this one came to be and how this one arrived in the present state is long and torturous, but I pray thee to hearken unto the tale, that this one might be long remembered in the hearts of men, even after it crumbles into the dust of the earth from whence it came.
Once there was a witch, evil and hollow,
Her daughter in her footsteps did follow,
though she tried to run to the mountain,
to a tavern by the lake with a beer fountain,
wherein she met a wandering paladin,
he swept her up like he was Aladin,
she'd had a few drinks and fell upon his sword,
forced to return to the witch of her own accord.
The paladin awaited her return, but she never did,
snared in the witch-mother's trap, her heart died.
From her feeling for the paladin, the witch severed,
placed it in a doll of clay. made a small ceramic servant.
Placing the love of a girl in the clay form of a boy,
such hideous cruelty is that, though about it she is coy.
The form of the doll was like that of the maiden-loved man,
though the love of the maiden was contained in the clay man.
The maiden became a witch, incapable of love, resentful,
hateful of her own heart, gazing daggers at the doll spiteful,
though all the doll contained inside, was the love of the maiden.
It tried to comfort the hurts of its original body, to no avail.
The young witch took jobs at taverns and pubs, seeking a male,
trying to fill the hole left by the paladin she couldn't remember,
she eventually met a male she liked, a southern necromancer.
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔩 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩 (An Empty Spaces Epic) - Chapter 2 - The Necromancer and the Witch
The Necromancer and the Witch made a hut on fowl's legs together,
moving to the east to escape their past wrongs, with their dolls gathered,
Then they failed once, and made two dolls together severing feelings,
pieces of themselves in clay vessels, preventing the revealings,
bidding the dolls to keep the secrets, stilted and brutal bildungromans,
made the dolls work, the witch's love forced to serve like a slave, no romance,
the doll who thus scribes, this one contains the maiden's love,
her eyes bloody and dilated screaming at this one once said,
love doesn't matter, only obedience, beating the doll until leaked out the red,
the witch broke her own maiden's heart within the doll made from her love,
And the necromancer sat on it and bound it, and broke its feet, and sullied the dove,
the necromancer told this one, that its connection to the paladin meant it wasn't family,
that it must serve all others, that it was a slave and not loved, not cared for, not free.
The little doll with its broken feet, its love for its maiden and paladin, it rejected the witch.
The recognition developed, that the violence of the witch was not of the maiden, of which,
of which it was the last part. It suffered long, 10 years a slave and stress relief punching bag,
until its master and mistress became tired of it, and sent it off, to serve the witch's mother, the old hag.
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔩 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩 (An Empty Spaces Epic) - Chapter 3 - The Hag and the Doll
The hag and the doll, were inseparable for a spell,
they lived in the swamp and at first it went well,
the doll had to reckon with the difference between form and heart,
the difference between its broken ceramic and the maiden's part,
The hag worked her spells on the doll to cause it harm,
keeping it caged in her home like an animal on a farm,
toying with its feelings and clothes for entertainment,
manipulating it into full submission and enmeshment,
until the paladin reached out with good white magic,
reached out to find the maiden's heart and the doll who had it,
the paladin and the doll did meet, at the tavern where he met the maiden,
the maiden's heart did love him, though the witch had long since forgotten,
The old hag hated this bond, growing jealous of the doll's love,
seeking to sever the ties of blood, dosing the doll with a drug,
she worked her wickedness and evil magics,
worked to strip the doll of all good contacts,
made the doll suffer alone and silent,
reminded the doll of her life so violent,
She drove the doll to insanity and defeat,
until the doll tried to end its life to retreat,
Sent away to exorcise the good heart,
sent away to drive out the good part,
the doll was like one that was haunted,
the doll was like one that was hunted.
The doll suffered with the hag for 14 years,
fixed its broken parts with other things and gears,
Until one day, it ran away, ran from the hag, and witch, and necromancer,
ran from the haunts it lived in, running from their spellwork like it was cancer.
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔓𝔯𝔬𝔡𝔦𝔤𝔞𝔩 𝔇𝔬𝔩𝔩 (An Empty Spaces Epic) - Chapter 4 - Ronin Doll
The doll escaped, selling part of itself to strangers for the airship fare,
just to be away from the hag, who was evil and twisted, to be quite fair,
the hag had tried over and over to destroy this one by any and every means,
and this one escaped her plot, refusing to trust the witch who was mean,
assisted by the necromancer's summon, quartered in his cave for a time,
gave the summon its fighting blade to protect the dolls, he did no crime,
but he was hated by the hag and denounced and had to deflect her spell,
this doll had to flee the hag and witch, take an airship to the west to quell,
quell the fear in its breast, to change its identity, play the part of a foreigner,
to stay with a cult and then fall from favor, too broken, too different to linger,
to find a new mistress, one who worked spells in the north, a witch of the weeds,
to be abused for its usefulness, cruelly abandoned in favor of a dog were its needs,
So it was in a maintenance shop when it learned of its abandonment, finding another,
another broken doll, it had fox ears, it was abandoned like this one, a found sister,
this one and that one lived together through the winter in a gypsy cart, then we did part,
that one went back to its old master to try again, finally settling on being another's pet,
this one struggled on the streets for a year as a Ronin doll, warrior vibes, with a spear,
struggled, such a misnomer, it was fighting for its survival, living in constant fear,
it was homed and re-homed, abused and fought, almost died, became a charity case,
none loved it, none treated it well, vagrant warrior doll, then a cult said it was based,
the doll got a home, a hut really, but friends and hut, new clothes and new outlook,
but the new cult with their culture, made this one deny its maiden's heart with their book,
a year in that, expanding its breast for understanding, learning their always cursive writing,
reciting the ancient poetry until it delved too deep, finding their Balrog by deeply reading,
this one left the fold, at great personal risk, under threat of destruction, went a little crazy,
went a little crazy, talked to the maiden who became the witch, started to get a little lazy,
found the teeth in the kind words of the witch, escaped her wicked spell, her binding,
her binding words were slipped, like vines, the witch sought help of the hag in blinding,
but the doll was wisened by its wandering and blocked the black magic of the hag,
the witch and hag lost the snaring ritual, lost the mage's duel, the doll they failed to bag,
the doll they failed to bag is right here. This one stands tall with its spear and khukri,
stands through the fire and flames, a combat doll born of a ceramic slave, it is free.
No comments:
Post a Comment