Song of Keaton (from ‘Baklawa Doom’, 2012)

Young Keaton, she was born into a once-grand city state
Ruled by an immortal Queen whose love had turned to hate
Her father was a blacksmith, and he dreamed of making art
Her mother hunted heretics and tore their souls apart
Her mother lived ten thousand years by feasting on the souls
Of those who would profane the Queen or mock the sacred scrolls
Her father was a younger man who forged the tools of war
To make the Red Queen's prophecies come true on every shore

The Queen believed she acted as the mouthpiece for her god
As non-believers lost their souls her men would smile and nod
Queen Jyraneth proclaimed that Creatures were the chosen few
All wingless mortals must be slain, their sacred task to do
Each month or so Her raiders would set forth upon the land
To harvest souls and smite the cities with the Red Queen's brand
They fought and slew and captured slaves and only spared the young
"Each child is pure and holy" was the mantra that they sung

Now Keaton was a young girl and she knew not what to say
When once she saw the wingsless slaves the Raiders caught that day
And pity stole upon her for these frightened mortal things
She shivered and she thanked the Queen that she'd been born with wings
Her brother Noah told her of a creature of the night
This story left young Keaton in a nervous state of fright
She placed her dolls like sentries on the watchtower of a keep
But stuffed toys cannot keep away the nightmare moths of sleep

One night when she was out alone she ran into the Queen
Who asked her what she'd like to do when she had turned nineteen
She tried hard not to think about the slaves she pitied so
Since Jyraneth could see her thoughts and things she shouldn't know
Her mother ran between the two for she was paranoid
The Queen might call out "Heresy!" and have her child destroyed
But Jyraneth ignored her quirks since Keaton was just small
She'd grow to be a warrior and cause their foes to fall

When Keaton was a teenager her brother took her out
To burn away her pity for the foes of the devout
And Noah told her that their sisters had been squeamish too
It was a rite of passage every Jyraneth goes through
They hid upon a mountain pass, 'till travellers came by
He shot them with a fireball and left them there to die
Then Noah turned to Keaton and he said the kindest thing
Would be for her to slay them both and end their suffering

When Keaton closed on 70 she kept her youthful air,
When you live several thousand years it's harder to compare
She went in search of Noah who'd been missing several days
When she returned she found her father dead and house ablaze
It wasn't just her family who had been taken down
Their city was invaded and their foes swept through the town
She fought and killed the warrior who claimed her father's head
But she was quickly overwhelmed and left behind for dead

She woke and found herself alive but taken as a prize
Her captors healed her major wounds but took one of her eyes
It took about three hundred years and one attempted rape
Before she killed her master and she managed to escape
She wanders now in search of any clan-mates who survive
Her dying captor hinted that her sister was alive
So now she is a drifter and she wears a mask of hate
But deep down she's just terrified she'll share her father's fate

Little Keaton, as the years went along
Little Keaton, such a shame it went so wrong
Little Keaton, it was such a shame that you,
Little Keaton, have become a monster too