The hall is full of people
subjects who are here
to pay respects to their king
The crown shines, the throne
awaits for the monarch to sit on it
As the skeletal figure enters
music stops, breaths are held.
His crimson robe waves
as a cold breeze blows
he climbs up the stairs and wears his crown
on his skull
He raises his hands and a frozen laugh is heard
cups fall, wine is spilled
everyone in the hall bows
Death is the ruler of this realm
and you all are welcome to join
The trumpets blow
marking the passage to the land
of shadows.
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