It begins again, as it was before.
The world is dark and cold.
The fire was lit but now it is gone.
Ring Ring Ring – the old bell tolls.
It echoes above and below.
The ground is still and cold.
The dead awake from the ground below.
The poor souls come back undead,
Only one will be chosen to bring the light.
All have their paths of which some will follow.
But those who stray will be no more, and will
not follow.
The hollow are dumb, they do not know
who they are anymore.
They are zombie-like, full of life nevermore.
The wind flows, cold and still.
Those who fight use only their swords and skill.
Two beings appear at close distance.
As the one who was chosen meets a strange man sitting by himself.
He sits beside a flame, barely lit – it may go out.
He wears a crown above his head, his eyes as dark as the midnight sky.
The dead and gone king slowly stands, and picks up his sword.
“I see, so this is how …”
The two battle what seems like a pointless fight.
It’s a fight that will occur, again and again …