A lady rose from the ashes of Charn
Her eyes were of fire and ice
With one word from her thrice accursed lips
A once great world paid her price
With a sweep of her wand
She froze every heart
After giving her life
For an apple in part
She made the rivers run cold
She drowned out the sun
She made the snow cover
All that she'd won
With a knife's stroke
She thought she had victory
Her enemy was slain
Along with all history
But she did not know all of Deep Magic
For it was beyond her ken
And when she had left in her triumph
The Lion rose again