The Ballad of the Forgotten King

From nameless dust, a fire grew,

A shadow walked where fate once flew. 

Born in hunger, forged in strife, 

He carved his name through war and life.

A blade was sharpened, keen and bright, 

A whispered oath in dead of night. 

A throne stood high, yet weak and bare, 

And waiting hands did place him there.

The crown was won, yet war remained,

A world in chains, a land profaned. 

The beasts arose, the earth did shake, 

And blood was spilled for mankind's sake.

The stars bore witness, cold and pale, 

As kingdoms burned and empires failed. 

He broke their lords, he cast them low, 

Yet tides of fate still ebb and flow.

Through war unending, through fate's cruel hand,

He claimed the sky, he ruled the land. 

Yet gods descend, their judgment near, 

Their voices rang in flame and fear.

A storm was waged, a heaven torn, 

A soul defiant, yet fate was sworn. 

The stars did shatter, the sky did break, 

And silence fell upon the wake.

Yet time is false, and ice but sleep,

A name is carved in secrets deep. 

The earth still whispers, the winds remain, 

For none can shackle fate with chain.

And when the dark shall rise once more, 

When hope is lost, and death at door— 

The storm shall wake, the sky shall rend, 

And what was lost shall rise again.