THE GOLDEN KING
The Golden King
bows His head in fiery
defiance
giving way to the
Darkness, slowly
ever creeping
giving ground to
the Veil
ever increasing
surrendering to
the Underworld
that which was only
borrowed
(some say stolen)
His reign
descending
careening toward
the Winter
yet again, and
always
trapped in frozen
tendrils
and sparkling ice
weeping golden
tears
painted on the
clouds
and hunted by the
Shadow
