Alas there were more than two,
A beautiful maid - male a few.
Willing caught in this deja - vu,
the young lad; his story anew,
still at odds in the battle of two.
Lest he was cursed, it had to be;
The one scarred - couldn’t see.
It stirred, the dove was set free;
stoic his aide, oblivion enemy,
the vanguard so took his stride,
a sullen brow, a callous hide,
a tale to tell, a pen to confide.
