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Throne of Ruins
Due north, where stars touch the treetops,
Souls of shoes long worn tread on paths forgotten.
Time as their only companion, daunting
As fate will have it, ruins be their final stop
Waiting for travelers to rashly enter their den
What once was, is no longer, tables turned
For upon a throne, untouched and ageless
Rests the helm of Him Who Waits
His halls crumbled, everlasting reign
Business is never finished, never restless
Good spirits help the traveler who snags his bait
Fulfill selfish need, only to his personal gain
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