Polly's hidden crown

With shield and crown

Polly the taker of heads,

Descended from her town.

With mirthful laugh

And fearsome blade,

Descending the necks

Of ogres, giants and dragons,

Her axe did land

With speed and swiftness

And the might of a thousand suns.

A sun of fire it burns bright

Hilt of obsidian black as night

Dragon sores and wind roars

Cast down evil, become the light

Down she brought her frickich blade

Sharpened by the vertebrae of devils

Stained in the ichor of evils

Once thought indomitable, cut down.

For the grief of broken blade,

A journey was set upon to forge anew.

Through, tears, blood and heat she

Found one who could forge the broken

Blade anew and from it he made a crown.

The crown she must wear

Both day and night

And wander in those places bare

To atone for those she did fight.

A crown forged from titin bone

A dragon she would overthrow

With a strike into its heart

The evil lands will fall apart.