Come little closer, the lis'ner o'mine!
Sit down, entangled in twisty plot's vine!
Scary, resentful, yet clear, and unfold',
Perchance, such a story should stay untold!
One day hath risen, like roses and thorns,
Glittering kingdom of limestone and mourns.
There was a King, three o'knights, and their Queen;
Oracle, Bards, and some bastards unseen.
Plots and prosperity, will and betray
Clashed and then fell, alas, upon they.
Hush! little stranger, the hurry, indeed,
Could make my story die in its seed...
There was a night which caused all of the fuss,
The night when a Rogue sneaked in like a mouse...
Bastards and nobles, fallen in love,
Trusted him as if he was sent from above!
Only the Oracle - Mother of Truth -
Knew he was nothing but just a goose.
Burning with hatred, bleeding with ink
Rogue fell a'cursed within couple of blinks!
Oracle's will could no one bypass!
Fell our angel of wings made o'glass!
Shattered, beguiled, shiv'ring, and loved
He was a pawn, which the Oracle pawned.
Master by nature (though pain by the arse),
Folks could say "smash" but his face was "pass".
Trapped in orbuculum, fated to speak
Telling the secrets as birds tell their tweet.
A soul apart flesh, preserved within stone,
His body devoured by time like a scone!
Lost and forgotten in chambers of truth,
Waited for judgment the Maker of Fuss!
Suddenly fallen on pillow of shards,
Fled our Rogue to heavens of God's!
Alas! the Oraculum - Weaver of Fates -
Followed his every step to the gates.
Drowning deeper in clouds o'white,
Feeling with feet the frostbite o'night,
Woke our Rogue with gasps and a mourn!
Morning fell flat on him just like a storm!
Beholded he kingdom which glitt'red in gold,
With all of its nobles and stories untold.
But Oracle's curse left him in fear and tremblement,
So chose he another one place for his settlement...