The Palms Of Sorrowed Kings

Barren halls of kings
Solemn and austere
Carry us through
The leaves of cruel fire
Where only remnants lay
Of all one’s acquired.

Stairs fall from this tower
Beneath the ruins of battlements
Labyrinthine crypts beset by the darkened walls
Where no light ever shone upon these cursed bodies
Or the piles of stone brought from the sea
Which carry the weight of their pain.

I lay gifts bestowed
Alone in sorrow
Leave me with all that I have left.

Lorn, forsaken, bereft of the world
Tattered vestiges of ruined crests unfurled
Here the fallen remember their songs
In sepulchral kingdoms forever gone.

Where the sea and the heavens collide
Glinting in the distance
as the moon strains with the tide
Below the standing stone, we come to confess
To a spirit departed under monuments rest.

In the outstretched hands of stone
Crowns and thrones
Crumbling cold to dust
As ivy wreathes the bones.