My king it’s lovely to see you once more,

In a dark cloak donning your crown of curls.      

You face off foes in a flamboyant war;   

Cold settles once more and the truth unfurls.

The fire in your blood makes dark eyes gleam;

Gleam past the dark ghosts who wish to plague you.

Long nights bring wraiths who share your lovely dream,

Of untrodden snows and valleys of rue.

Valleys graced with soft handed mirages,

Smiles from the strangers who’d once been small;

They returned despite woeful barrages,

Saddened sisters help you dance in the hall.

A wraith’s soft warmth never agreed to leave,

Since long nights are hard,  not easy to grieve.