The Cold Throne

The slain have bled dry,
and the sun is leaving the sky.
And it is of you, the king,
that the bards will sing.
The gold and silver is yours,
but the treasure has left your shores.
Though you battled in her name,
She left you all the same.
Vanished without a trace,
leaving a harsh chill in her place.
You search the lands for her warmth,
boldly charging forth.
But all you manage to find,
is that you lost your mind.

You men who so boldly followed,
now with fear are swallowed.
no longer do they see,
why they followed thee.
but that weighs little on your soul,
for you know your role.
To search the land,
for favor of her hand.
You cannot bear to be apart,
for she is the bearer of your heart.

Though she can't be found,
its her you see all around.
All there is left to do is trust,
though difficult you must.
Its hard to search from sea to sea,
when this is not the world to me,
She is.