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The King surveyed his land
From guarded caravans
Held all in his hand

A woman dressed in black
She came across his path
Her magic lit his wrath

Imprisoned as a slave
She cursed him on that day
And carved it on her grave

Next to that sinking stone
Her daughter left alone
Swore death upon his throne


He made good use of the slaves and the whores
Justice was done in a feast of blood and gore
His name diluted, his heirs fell victim to the war
A thousand years she's haunted their lives
A thousand deaths that struck the young men in his line
Her words eternal, they can't be crushed by time

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