The Edge of the World

[Verse I] Beyond the farthest fields of men, Where weary roads to legend bend, The Witcher walks with a laughing friend To hunt a “devil” feared by all. But in the orchards shaped by dawn, They find no beast for blades to fall— A Sylvan dancing wild and strong, More trickster heart than threat at all. [Pre-Chorus] Yet shadows stir behind the trees, Old hatred drifting on the breeze… [Chorus] At the edge of the world where the fallen lie, Old grudges burn beneath an open sky. They lift their voices sharp as steel, Blinded by the pain they refuse to heal. And though the Witcher stands with reason’s flame, Hate answers only with more of the same. [Verse II] The ambush comes with arrows drawn, The bard struck down before a cry. Bitter elves, in vengeance clad, Drag them bleeding through the rye. Their voices echo frost and rage, Each word a wound from centuries torn— Blaming humans for every page Of suffering their kind has borne. [Pre-Chorus] But captive though he stands, the Witcher speaks— A calm that cuts where hatred peaks… [Chorus] At the edge of the world where old wounds roar, The cursed loop of hatred spins once more. He calls them out for mirrored scars, For burning hope like broken stars. “Your wrath,” he warns, “will birth its twin, And drown the future you seek within.” [Bridge – The Spirit Appears] Then comes a whisper through the leaves, A shimmer cold as moonlit rain. The forest bends, the twilight heaves— A presence older than their pain. The spirit walks in silver air, A guardian bound to sacred land. Elven blades grow still in prayer As fate unravels from its hand. [Break – Deliverance] The captives rise, their bonds undone, The wrathful bow, their judgment stilled. For where the spirit’s light has shone, The heart’s dark well cannot be filled. [Final Chorus – Awakening] At the edge of the world where legends wake, The truth cuts deeper than the wars we make. The Witcher leaves with friend in tow, Still hearing echoes soft and low— A lesson carved in root and stone: That hate gives birth to hate alone. [Outro – The Path Continues] So onward into dusk they stride, Two wanderers on the endless tide. For even at the world’s far rim, Light lingers where the night grows dim.