The reign is falling on the pain at the window,
The "Hail" didn't come as royalty crawled
Out of its chair, senile and broken, like a widow's
Golden anniversary in black. Heroes sprawled
In the canoe, going to nowhere in the torrent.
The reign is falling on the pane of my window,
As I watch time unfold the end as scrolls
From the Dead See, anachronistic and cold,
Yet reel. Nobody foresaw the end of the troll
That brought so much destruction on the roots.
The rain is falling on the pain at the widow's:
Chaos spells letters of clouds over the silver lining
It's a bright loud zigzag that dares to show
And scare the crowds. There's hope for less pining
When the seed dies and a new reign renews.