Ten little strays in a sorry old state
Ten strong men had a fall from grace
Ten bowed heads and ten heaved sighs
Ten strong fools in a pretty bad place
Their quarry had escaped their chase
The Bladed Lady got away
Now they found that they were lost
Without a hope at end of day
One of them said, "this was a waste"
And straight away two concurred
Their quarry surely can't be worth
The things the ten men had endured
Three sat down right where they stood
Refused to move another inch
Four of them broke down and cried
To find themselves in such a pinch
In perspective, what did they care
These wretched woods were a living hell
Far worse than whatever they could do
Exile would do just as well
One of them said "let's just go home"
And straight away two agreed
Three said "We'll just say she's dead"
And four said "that is all we need."
Still they stayed there for some time
Just to rest a little more
Catch their breath and lift their moods
Before the hike they had in store
Then from out of the tulgey woods
Who should come to meet them there
The Bladed Lady had found herself
And bore a look of deep despair
"Take me if you think you can,
I won't go down without a fight
Who among you can bring me down
Who among you can face my might?"
One said, "no, you're free to go,"
Two said, "exile is enough"
Three said, "we don't want to fight"
And four said "you are much too tough"
Up they got and off they went
But where they went I wonder
Bladed Lady watched them go
Just speechless at this blunder