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| The Heart Throne |
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The chamber is silent
The candles burn low
No music is playing
And the jesters have gone home

The festivities have lulled
Silence pervades
The moon holds it's breath
And all of creation waits

The wind doesn't blow
The sun does not shine
The herald is silent
The poet ceases his rhyme

The King sits alone
His crown is removed
Before him ghosts dance
In steps long reproved

One throne sits vacant
Untarnished -- pristine
Awaiting the return
Of it's misplaced Queen.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Daedalan, in the year 379 AF.