The Curse Of Bôgradanz

His mother a giant, his father a dwarf,
His frame was but half of a man's,
His face was deformed and he slouched in his skin
But I lusted for cursed Bôgradanz.

He wasn't all gross, he had eyes flecked with fire
And power to wield the same.
And just as he mastered its power was I
So controlled by him as but a flame.

But nothing I did could beguile Bôgradanz.
He had but a single desire,
His magic. His magic! That fool of a man,
I warned him of playing with fire!

My beauty is greater than his! Yet he shunned me!
I'd show him what fire could do.
I'd burn down his dwelling, I'd burn him to ashes,
And I would stop loving him too.

But when the torch lighted, he knew of its prescence.
He foiled my beautiful plans.
He called me a witch and I was imprisoned,
By handsome and foul Bôgradanz!

So here I am writing, awaiting my fate,
I'm bound to be burned at the stake.
Perhaps, when in flames, he'll at last see my beauty,
Perhaps then his cold heart will break.

My warlock, cursed warlock... yet I die the witch!
And fire is mine, not his bane.
My beauty was useless, his being shall live.
I wonder if I am insane...

My mother a beauty, my father a knight,
My body too good for a man's.
I'm perfect! I'm perfect, but for a lone curse:
My curse is the cursed Bôgradanz!