Golden Ages Past and few
A Golden King of old I knew
A mighty ruler, a blesséd king
A warrior and hunter of many a thing
laugh was merry, his eyes were bright
But when a fowl took off in flight
Never after has been such a man
Who could dispatch an arrow with such speed from his hand
sorrow did plauge the King in his years
And soon all that flowed from the river were tears
For many a kindred he lost in the wars
With decisions a plenty his heart did tore.
horrible times did lay at his feet
That at times he wished to break down and weep
But no such luxury had he to secure
For the fate of his kingdom lay at his feet for sure.
onwards he tarried, toiled and faught
Until he perished and his country distraught
Built a tomb for him to sleep soundly in death
And continued the fight in great behest.
alas! did the battle end up in doom fatal
For none of the country, from the old to the cradle
Survived the downfall of that blesséd realm
Save few that curried like rats from the helm.
so did end that Golden Age
With weeping forgotten save on this page
And in the memory of this aging lad
Who by that King was happiness clad.