The girl, the mortal this tiny thing comes to me,
To entreat My heart, to make a plea,
"Save my people, and i will be Yours!"
As if I could not take her by force.
My brother, the Darkness, has come to kill,
Rape and pillage and devour his fill,
And this girl, this mortal, she stand here still.

The maid, the woman this tiny thing begging of me,
To kill my brother Darkness and restore the Tree,
"For my family, i am Thine!"
As if she were not already Mine.
This girl, this woman, shining her light,
Has come to me, begging My might,
Arrogantly offering what is Mine by right.

The slave, the maiden this tiny thing comes to me,
My heart is moved, but not hers to see.
"My body i freely give over!"
As if she could resist me as lover.
Still this girl, this mortal I see,
Has moved My heart, and therefore Me,
I shall kill my brother, and set them free.

The mortal, the girl, now cleaves to Me,
Her people are safe, and her family free.
This tale is not of the death of My brother,
It is the tale of this mortal lover.

The girl, the maid, though already I owned her,
Gave of her free will and therefore I crowned her,
And of my power and strength, surround her.
Forever.