TW: mentions of death Birthday Girl Dear the parent Of the lost birthday girl, I may not blame you For your own little faults The ones that relapsed Into a deadly waltz With the grim reaper, With he you tried to shake, So that your wife wouldn’t break, Crying when she wakes. Destroy the tyrant, And win back your land. Win the trust of the knights, And watch your friend stand Claiming her place as queen. Your funeral On your daughter’s 9th birthday Was the worst gift The valley’s ever seen. Happy Birthday, Birdie.
