Enigma in Black

This is pure flight of fancy, and not based on anything in particular. Possibly, she is the woman I would be in an RPG world. Interestingly enough, after being introduced to Enigma, Alasdair found her turning up uninvited in a poem he was working on. These are not quite the same words I originally wrote as I had to alter them slightly to improve the way they fitted with the music Alasdair wrote.

The woman in black doesn’t care what you say,
She’ll do as she’s asked and she’ll get her own way.
If you’re lucky she’ll leave, if you’re lucky she’ll stay
And they call her Enigma in Black.

Her scabbard is silver, of workmanship rare;
Her only adornment the gold ring she wears.
She won’t speak you softly, she’ll always speak fair,
And they call her Enigma in Black.

The woman in black has a voice hard as stone,
Her eyes glint with fires that are best left unknown.
She owes no allegiance, nor any she owns.
And they call her Enigma in Black.

She has no companion, nor any she needs
Even the rumours won’t follow her lead.
She walks in the twilight where none see her deeds,
And they call her Enigma in Black.

The woman in black has a strange kind of fame
And someone met someone who once knew her name
She claims to be no-one, she’s no-one she claims,
So they call her Enigma in Black.

© Lyrics: Jessica Prett; Music: Alasdair Prett; February 2001