In the glacier’s of my King- a flame may always burn,
surrounded by the beautiful castle of frost,
smoke arise-blinding the ones that set sight,
my symptom of tragedy has arrived from the King,
the frost bitten snow has been burnt.

The icy, water flows throught the sound of forever hell,
the water the monstrous kraken sips,
it rests in the icy water- tentacles on the frost covered iceberg.
the apparent hero, Levoi will slaughter it mercilessly,
before he knows it, he’ll be knee’s deep in the kracken’s blood,

I’m the white fire, a pale flame of bloody hell,
smoke burn from the river’s of molten,
as helpless victims are reposed in their own ashes.
their skeleton sinks to the bottom of the bottomless river,
it sinks into the lava-submerged pale sand- sheds of skeletons.

The blood-freezing blizzard swarms me as the fate of the krackens flys to heaven,
my reflection in the blood covered ice gazes at my iris,
words appear above me in the ice cold reflection- above the blaze of white,
“The kracken was mourned for, but I reckon more danced in glee”,
The krackens death was merciless, the creature was killed cause of it’s size,
That thought would leave everybody hopeless,

The strongest heroes were slain by the kraken in an attempt to execute,
but they were the one executed- drowned under the dark cloud as rain poured,
The kracken was known as “The Invincible” until it was killed,
Levoi, he was, who slaughtered the kracken with it’s bare hands,
Levoi, in my iris, was the one who should’ve died considering his history,
He can’t play hide and seek with your own past.

blood stained tulips and a collection of skeletons summarizes this man’s past,
a pint of blood on your past can murder you brutally,
but a pool of blood on your past can leave you as the saver of the world,
I had a pint on me- when I slaughtered the farmer’s horse,
but I was a peasant, and the enchantment was spat on me,

Now, I watch again as another pint of blood is carried into heaven

In the middle of it all- a black fire burns,
The black fire engulfs all that set’s sight,
the flames disintegrate all that’s it’s told,
and the black fire is the key to it’s own end,

The black fire lives upon death,
the majesty’s death will end with it’s as well,
the Honored One owns the key,
the key to the lock to the Demon’s Palace,

In the bloody kingdom- may a pint of burning blood burn,
may the blood be flaming on the tough of the dragon,
cut down with slice of bronze sword,
In the middle of it all a pit of black fire burns,

The water flows down the dragon’s blood,
when the Honoured One commits the kill,
the blood may burn as the dragon’s anger is merciless,
a smoke-filled skull appears in the black fire,

The golden throne holds the Honoured One,
The Honoured holds his bronze sceptre,
he has the silver key in his eyes- encrusted in his iris,
one slip and I will stop burning.

Maybe Tartarus will put it’s fingers on me.
A bloody skull will appear above me,
my death has arose and my soul is now in torture,
I will be with the burning blood on the dragon’s tongue.





© Forgive and Forget