The Scar on my Back Tells All
by Sauron Gorthaur

Sorrow and pain have haunted my steps,
I was cursed the day I was born:
Doomed to live the son of a monster,
Fell youth of the Forsworn.
A three-year-old child learned suffering well;
A bloodied sword and a scar are my hell.
Could I know what pain such a mark would foretell?
The scar on my back tells all!

In my father's eyes, I was no more than scum
And my mother abandoned me, too;
Oh Brother, remember what you made me pay,
I was always lesser than you.
Do you know what it's like to grow with such hate?
Scorned and abandoned, ah, such was my fate.
Pain taught me to rage, then forced me to wait.
The scar on my back tells all!

All around me, enemies lurk;
My worst enemy lurks inside;
My mirror shows my father's face.
From myself I can never hide.
When I speak, his voice fills both of my ears.
My very words serve to heighten my fears.
You cannot calm or comprehend all my tears.
The scar on my back tells all!

And don't forget, I tried to escape,
Left my pain and a palace behind.
But for a Rider who needed my help
I would now dwell with peace in my mind.
I tried my best to flee from it all;
Was I supposed to leave you and the Varden to fall?
You were my friend, or so I recall.
The scar on my back tells all!

Lost in the darkness, what can I say:
Was it my fault he captured me so?
A red stone erupting before my dark eyes:
Two captives by two Names brought low.
Branded betrayer by all from the start,
Do you think I enjoy this low, traitor's part?
A Name on a king's lips, a bond on my heart.
The scar on my back tells all!

My Misery binds both body and mind;
My oath is a Thorn in my side.
You cannot see red blood on a red blade
Nor in darkness know if you've died.
My pain is a mark carved deep in my skin.
I've never won and never can win;
Cast out by strangers, imprisoned by kin.
The scar on my back tells all!

The taste of hope is bitter as death;
Why, Brother, give us this pain?
The door to escape, the chance to change,
We would soar to freedom again.
Would you have succeeded to hold off the dark?
To hope or despair – to which should we hark?
I'm caught in my anger and snared by this mark:
The scar on my back tells all!