---

(Lhiannan Sidhe:)

“These wooden faces

be the sole witness of my vow

As I midst clutching fingertips promise

that Godfearing Man

If dared entered here

Will lie! …Lie …Die!

Yet more than a meal to dine

I need Man’s essence as my concubine

Content in a lie will be the King and I”

(Narrating:)

Upon the lands came great misfortune

In the shape of One lesser God and

Those days have passed since long it seems

Since this One God came forth in form

Of a book in hand of a King undone

Unless his faith deprived the some

Ninehundredthousand acres

Their by birth heretic pride

And when this doctrine practised

Not its’ preach but slew all

Infidels to teach of riddles

Gospels and of denials

Then little choice in store

There lie for divinities

And all the elder deities

But to be exiled - in chains led

To woods they vowed to keep

From Man to tread

Now in this land of Darkened Moors

Where the gilded plains meet ghostland shores

Did a curse strike Him

Who crowned had been

One Dark Goddess

Had plotted schemes of Own

So now the Kings all…

Fall asleep

Every year as summersolstice draws near

Come the hour of midnight so deep

In slumbers sting of bittersweet

A kiss to last nights of seven

And never will a King be free

As long as Men in God believe

And as the years they pass

The Kings all grow obsessed at last

(thinking:)

Breaching eastern borderlines

Will reclaim the honour

Of the Royal line

At least this is His agenda told

To march straight to Hell

For the folly of his soul

For Gods of Old

Them ghostwoods hold

By means untold

And mortal Man’s

bound to here Die

And so it all begins

With the death of one King

Who first repents ‘pon a life well spent

Having failed them woods to breach

Where the Old deities hide

These the last in a heathen line

Still William seems content

With the years well spent

And with all that he leaves his only son

…Yes Simeon’s time is now come

(William of Kroue:)

…my son …my son

(Narrating:)

And when life spans at best

Past a mere moment the rest of ages

Seems far too long for to be spent pondering

O’er the fate of a son, indeed

Left weeping by his bed

This son so faithful, still mislead

(William of Kroue:)

O Simeon

Weak be thine heart just as mine

And you will learn as I

The true worth of the lie

If thou only knew what I now know

I’m sure thou wouldst be

Neither proud nor bold

But biding your time in the shadows

Knowing too well what hides

In patience that resides

(Narrating:)

But as this King dies

His words escape him in flight

And as for this Simeon

Son of the baptized King

Not a single word was heard and thus

Yet another page is turned

In the poisonous bloodline that burns

Veins of a pawned King battling old ways

Will remain unbroken

And he will come to understand

That Mortal Man and the King

In flesh thrives best when laid at rest

Under heathen bloodred wings

Now as nay word can shape

Nor breath escape lips turned cold and grey

So must Simeon bound by oath begin

His journey to rid Man of Sin

And with his Good Book

Tightly pressed to chest

A princely King seeks solace

In his foreign Gods crest

But this solace comes hard

When one’s been dealt this card

To all alone shoulder Land and Curse

With the sole companion of only his own wit

And as the rain falls hard outside

And the stone cold quarters where he hides

Are cold and damp, ’tis like a prison cell

(Simeon Kroue:)

“Oh well, this is mine Lot…

(…This is mine Lot)”

(Narrating:)

And so biblical pages turn

In the shimmering light

Yet all the letters blur

They barely show words anymore

(Simeon Kroue:)

Why to me they reveal nothing

In this my hour of need

Is unbeknownst to me

(…Unbeknownst to me)

(Narrating:)

Bolted doors in the castle halls

And all those marbled faces staring blindly into air

Still here one fair shape tiptoes 'tween each pair

With grace she carefully makes her way

Up stairs slithering winding up to where

The boy King now in grief resides

Oh now the time is truly ripe!

Tis an eerie Royal house

Her heart thumps fast and quite aroused

This maid does close her eyes and smiles

'Tis true, the men of the cloth

Would surely her flesh gladly burn

Should they ever of her intentions learn

And how them dark arts of them Elder Gods

Resides here behind these walls

In the heart of one whom this King wards

In a heart untainted by the Lord

The castle sleeps it truly breathes

And she is here to free the beast

The smell of his reeking

Gospel reading from inside

She has to close her eyes...