She remembers, long ago, her duties taught to her so deep
they expected her to know all knowledge a good slave would keep.
Duty, service, yielding too, but there’s one thing they cannot train,
the deepest thing a slave can do, is save her Master from deep pain.

For loyalty is what that is, a wish to serve in heart and soul
cannot be taught, to be all His, to find in service being whole
and yet keep hold to values true, that even slaves must know and see
and if you think Master would do dishonor, of that set Him free.

And then that dreaded moment came, of which was spoken, years ago
as one she served felt anger’s flame, and would of only hurting know
she saw his dreams go up in ash, his love in darkness turn to dust
He did not see what he would crash, but she did, and knew what she must.

And thus she gave that greatest gift, and thus decided Master’s fate,
she wished her actions now to lift, stop him from doing harm in hate.
And thus decided right and wrong, and gave a form to what she knew
which brought her grace and made her strong, that moment in what she did do.

But now, after all that is done, she is alone, and yielding is
just empty, it is cold and numb, and as she wonder’s what’s amiss
she realises that through choice, she lost the service she holds dear.
Through giving that great gift a voice, she’s made her soul and service tear.

Now Master’s right, and Master’s wrong, lie buried deep in her own heart
and gone is now her depth of song, and gone the bliss that was her part.
And though Master forgave her then, and she has paid, she does grieve still
for she alone can find again, that yielding in her heart and will.