What lies beyond the starry years,
how silently the darkness nears.
The jester chortles with delight,
or's chocking on the wine in fright.
The queen, austere, says not a word,
but still a little gasp is heard.
The king is grim, his eyes downcast,
a broken sword; his strength won't last.
The wizard's eyes, those gleaming spheres—
his longing soul tempers his fears.
The castle falls into forgotten myth
under the shadow of time's monolith.
The scattered knights have all fallen asleep,
and no voice calls them back unto their keep.
Tale Told 