Vile laughter
At the heart of the ghoulish mount,
There lies dreadful death,
Which all dread and fear,
Which haunts anything that is near,
Remembrance of hatred,
Regret and dark grudge,
Stain on the honour,
That naught might sweep away,
But the blessing of the Heir,
Coming in haste, when the tide turns,
He seeks a forgotten oath,
And betrayed as well,
So that the unfaithful may redeem,
So that the Good may breathe a sigh of relief,
For of a host they are in need,
And a host does reside behind that wicked stone,
Yet one-time worthy of kingly trust,
It lies now silent and cursed,
Waiting for the proper time to undo the chains of the torture,
Their lord might fight for the just cause, accepting the offer with vile laughter.