The King is Dead, Long live the King!

Lay me out to rest this day, upon the battlefield in disgrace; remove my armor that is worn that could not protect, while the wearer mourns his fate.

Burn all that was under my ring, cast out my false crown of the king, today I make my stand and slowly raise my sword

For death awaits in my lucid dreams, prophesied yet unforeseen, I stand alone while my castle stands while slowly it rots the land

Empty I have been, a apathy for my sins, I cannot even shed a tear nor mourn I’m simply left forlorn

Cursed with power is the cross I bear, no delight for the murderers that conspired here, I sit alone upon my throne

At home I once was upon these battlefields; only now do I slowly yield my lust for conquest on the field

The masses move upon my gate, so surely this was my fate, to die alone a vanquished king, still swinging my sword with royal rings

Death it calls out for me and gladly I would reply and ride its stead for there is nothing left for me in this land I’ve defiled

Hell waits today as I prepare for battle on my finale day and in that moment of truth I will die still a warrior true.