An old, handsome king cloaked in black and gray
Walking tall as he holds a heavy heart
He fights on for the peace so far away
A fatal burden tearing him apart
Porcelain envies his ivory skin
Scarred and withered by the battles of yore
Flowy, gray tresses once darker than sin
Time and war beautified him ever more
His regal body perishes slowly
As his soul is drained by the gods' magic
In retribution for sins unholy
Yet he fights on despite fate so tragic
The patriarch king doth protects his son
From the cruel fate of a war to be won