A battle, state and inconvenient
A battle fought so acute in pride
A curse or rather plague, a fever
Nailed me to the fireside
At a crackling wood's spark flight up to the skies
The tempest king, he claims the throne
But halts in stride as equal legions
Melt in with the leader's tone
An elder king arose
From blood soaked fallow battlefields
With orders calm at urgent voice
And reasoning as iron shields
And dreadful words it were
As he spoke of abandonment
Thus I shivered as the tempest
As his fever came upon my hand
As his fever came upon my hand
Then swords were risen by the brave
As for me I rose my twig to the skies.
And no one would withdraw
One's eyes were as the fiend's
All men in flames and zeal
As ire filled to burdening air
As ire filled to burdening air
While two in brawl for the throne
A third with grins on stainless cheeks
In bushes waiting in conceal
Delighted of the bleak
At sudden startled
Dismay had dropped my twig
I turned down the fireside
And the last sparks of the night
Lit my paths with golden wings
Sensing me and my Three Neuron Kings