isolde

In endless twilight's mournful hue, A king walks worlds, both old and new, A thousand years, his heart's cold stone, Seeking threads to weave her back home. Longing for her warm touch, The king wandered the world in a rush, Losing her brought the king so much sorrow, He searched for her soul like there's no tomorrow. Through misty dawns and asphodel nights, He chases whispers of her vanished lights, A monarch shattered, by grief's cruel hand, He'll bargain shadows, to reclaim her land. Her departure gave birth to the ruined king, Corrupting the world with the ballad he sing, Swallowing every light that came his way, Ruination is the world's defray. From his lips, a dirge of endless night, Leaks into earth, a mournful spite, Draining hues from petals, sea, and sky, Now shadows feast, where love once did lie. The king's lament, a requiem cold, Echoes through realms, where Isolde's gone told, In endless grief, his heart's ash and stone, The world, a tomb, where love's last breath is moaned. Isolde's whisper, a forgotten sigh, Fades into night, as the king's heart dies, The world's last light, extinguished and grey, In eternal night, they both drift away .