Recollections of my days are becoming blear

Or maybe it’s the blood loss…?

I recall when the idea first crystalized

The fatuous endeavor before we inevitably die

The toil, the tragedy, the momentary triumphs

Humbled under the heel of time

Studying sorcery I found a way to survive

My soul entrusted to beast and bird, both buried under an oak

Unburdened by mortality my morality decayed

Whatever or whomеver I desired I’d just simply takе

Victim of my own conceit, I was caught, shackled, and in defeat

With sorcery ensured hundreds died; brutally, before being bound and pacified

When efforts of execution failed to deliver me to death

I was immured by Marya Morevna

Besieged by darkness, rats, rot, and irony

My prison was a poetic reminder of a disadvantage of immortality

Twelve chains restrained my neck, hands, and feet

Ten years of isolation, while I wailed and screamed

Then one day, my hoarse pleas of perdition, were finally answered

A man named Ivan unlocked my cell, and I was given water

Revitalized, the sturdy restraints holding me were easily broken, and bust

Marya’s army would perish and she’d be my bride until the day she died

Conjuring my power my rage became a tempest manifest

The warrior princess and her army in route step

Would be destroyed; slaughtered, by both whirlwinds and thunderstorm

Bol'she nikogda…

Bol'she nikogda…

Bol'she nikogda!!!

Then one day I was astonished to see, the young man Ivan attempt a rescue, foolishly

Three warnings followed by three attempts, and I dismembered him; disposed in the briny currents

She escaped, again!? Tracking their trail, I was surprised to see, Ivan!?

Though I dismounted and had approached cautiously

Their steed suddenly bucked, striking my head violently

Stunned, and beaten; burned, my ashes were distributed and dispersed

Enraged yet alive, my soul still separated; I couldn’t die…

Eventually I resurrected and returned to my castle

I continued my life of hunting…

Some trophies chose to stay, some not, no one left

Except Vasilisa who showed true fondness…

I witlessly shared the safekeeping of my soul

Someone smashed my door, a rescue? I’ve dealt with these before

A swordsman, named Bulat, claimed he would take my life

Dismayed when his strikes failed to fell me

Vasilisa took my side, and I felt an egg crack on my back

Sharp agony overtook me and I fell to the floor

Reinstated with mortality my constitution deteriorated

Bulat and Vasilisa gone, my blood flowed onto the floor

Victim of my own conceit, I was callous, stubborn, and recalcitrant

With sorcery delayed when I’d die, undignified, ultimately forsaken and ostracized