(think of an old madrigal or similar style)
The maiden maid was a wondrous maid
With hair of violet red
At night alone she dreamed she'd take
The butler to her bed
A trip-fall maiden was she by day
No grace in her step or her stance
But like a cat was her graceful heart
As she dreamed of a night's romance.
A rival she had of a lineage
Who gathered the souls of the dead
With a whirling blade and a threadbare doll
And a mane of flaming red
He dreamt that one day he would be wed
To the butler strong and true
And bear a child though he was male
That's what he wanted to do.
Now the butler he was a virtuous man
Though a demon pure was he
He never gave into the trip-fall maiden
Nor the Reaper wild and free.
He only gave thought to the one he served
To his master he was ever true
While the two who were red sought to take him to bed
His loyalties ran with the blue.