Fiera, the fairy of fickle mettle, With hair flaxen as wheat, Is mischief’s minion.
She brings the chalice of malice To the lips of fine folk;
Her wicked merriment.
Fiera, the fairy of games folly, Believes that surcease of others Is her divine power.
In hopes of devil’s exaltation,
Fiera curses ladies’ pendent trinkets; Trouble and sin brood.
Fiera, the missive of death, Unveiling her cruel plot Awaits Satan’s call.
Every thane of Satan Must disburse for entry Into gates of hell.
Fiera, inflamed with desire, Will give her due payment By forming demons.
Ladies and gentlemen Lost in the night’s wassail; Their fate undecided.
Fiera is sent before Satan, A harbinger
But to be naught more.
For fickle fairy Fiera Releases trinkets’ curses A thane never to be.
Fiera, like the horse
In the adage,
Drinks not from the chalice Of Satan.