When blood stains his soul
And smoke clouds his past
One must bring with them a towel
And always remember the lantern
0.0
In his eyes is a storm
Thunder and lighting raging for their souls
Distant echoes of laughter once deafening
Fade into the sands of the past
0.0
Distraught is his mind
But his face shows it none
The tears they flow silently
And invisibly
0.0
Night after night he has laid awake
The carnage and desolation clouding his vision
After the bitter taste of despair touches his lips
His eyelids close and his thoughts disappear into myth
0.0
With red hair a blazing
And sword of goodwill held up high
She storms the beach and into his castle
Through endless halls of blank stone
0.0
In the throne room they meet
The high king of nothing versus the barbarian of goodwill
A sulfur crown and a cotton warhelm
Grey storms reflect against amber gems
0.0
As the king studies this young warrioress
The clouds of anguish in him clear a bit
Feeling young, apricious, energized
His lips curl up in a guiltless smirk
0.0
Laughing, he offers the barbarian his arm
Hesitation and then trust shows in her eyes and soul
Their forearms link and they stroll together
Through limitless halls of carved stone
0.0
The storm in his eyes hardens with her
Becoming metal
Becoming determination
The will to survive born from rain and wind
0.0
Their souls no longer cry to him at night
Instead they sing
Instead of screams and death, they revel and dance
Revealing colors and connections none others could
0.0
The fumes in the sky seem a little less ashen
And the fires in his castle seem a little less raging
And the blood in his soul seems a little less soaking
And the smoke in his past seems a little less obscuring
Because she brought with her a towel
And she always remembered the lantern
As they walk arm in arm down the coast.