And though she did begin to walk
A voice from behin bid her stop.
An outstretched arm of a friend
"Stay for Booksie" he doth say.
Taking his hand she doth swore
"I will" and rode with him away.
Stay she did but not for long.
Torn and battered she wept alone.
Weapon at her side she stared out in vain.
Her once beloved home lost, and slain.
Rising up from the dusty grave
She turned on her heel.
Forever walking away.
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