When evening in the town was gray
His footsteps came so barely heard.
Before the dawn he went away
To disappear without a word.
He traveled to and yonder by
To sneak and steal and run away.
His skills unmatched for those who try
And who he is, no one can say.
The Watchman Guard and Soldiers grew
To be knocked down without a fight.
A thief he is, a good one too
A hooded demon who stalks the night.
A deadly sword, a stealing hand
His skills, he says, they can be sold.
The guards, they want to reprimand
This weary pilgrim on the road.
His face was hidden in his hood
His dagger hangs from waist.
To steal from those he can and would
A grin upon his silent face.
His quiet stride upon light wings
And under darkness he masters all
To take from those who would be kings
And answer night's great silent call.
A Lord of Lies, crowned a Thief
The silenced echoes were heard afar.
The jobs he pulled beyond belief
To follow where the shadows are.
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