the last immortal

forever eternal, in death alone
sits the golden king on his golden throne
his will to conquer, his will to thrive
rests below the grave of his will to survive

from the bloodied halls, shadows embrace
being his only sire, last of his race
and by the sands, which count down time
no sons for he, last of his line

rivers grow deep, trees climb high
sun never setting on his onward sky
his wine is warm, his bread is dry
no grassy bed for himself to lie

rivers dig canyons, many miles now deep
trees over grow the land, nightly sleep
no longer in beauty, no longer in joy
in his mind, only great demons toy

his will to conquer, his will to thrive
rests now, below the grave of his will to survive
forever eternal, in death alone
sits the golden king on his golden throne