Here it comes
The time to atone
The time to run
Or claim the throne
The night wind blows
His mind reels
He is hurt
And broken and steeled
He stands tall
Head held high
Dark eyes glinting
And shaking thighs
He is not missed
He is barley seen
Against an onslaught of voices
One quiet scream
This is the perfect time
To get sweet revenge
Or to feel sweet love
And attempt to avenge
She was sweet as her name
He loved her until the bitter rain
He tried to find a light
But his light hid fangs
To love her, he had to go
Flit away like a lonely lark
But her memory lives within him
He must save her final mark
The son she died for
The spawn of a stag
He must protect the boy
He cannot lag
He is broken
He is half gone
But he still has a quiet voice
That still has one song
He utters her name
He hides from his fears
He gives a soft cry
And sheds bitter tears
Yet, he calls the doe forth
Urges her o'er a hill to stay
Silent he watches
And his heart canters away
Though he did right
He carries not the rose or the bone
But in the middlest shade of grey
He stands alone
Here the Prince stands
He had his time to atone
And he did not run
He seized the throne