We will, I tell her.

Yes, we will.

If she doesn't like it,

Then we can change it.

Rising up against it;

And it's not fair

No one should have to be

Every day, every week,


No offense to her master,

But offense to her all the same.

Poor Darra's got talent

That's terribly abused.

Every day, every week,

And she can't help it,

She needs to make her proud.

I say she doesn't.

Darra's her own person,

Her person is fast fading

She's tired, sunken and hollow

It's the training, I know.

Her master's the best and wants to much

And I know she needs to be fit;

All these missions ahead,

She needs it,

But she needs rest,

And there's no way to get it.

I tell her to tell her master she can't train like this;

There's a limit, a boundary

Every week, every day.

I thought I was doing

Darra a favor.

I was; so proud

A little red in the cheeks

Helping her out,

As she dozes off at lunch

And mumbles about

How Antan just doesn't know.

We'd let her know,

I must have said it for hours

She got annoyed, maybe,

Maybe looked away, possibly,

When the worst words came:

I had spoken out of turn.

Not my place to argue to her master,

Not my place to get involved.

Darra's trying her best

So maybe I should admire it.

Redder in the cheeks than ever;

I am sorry;

I just wanted the best.

And in a way that's frustrating;

How will she ever get it?

Sometimes the best

Means speaking out of turn.