The stonewalls, chipped and faded,
Lay in fragments on the ground.
Proud arches and commanding towers
Converge in brimming mounds.

Thick, choking weeds have overgrown
The courtyards veiled with ash.
The tapestries so mourned and cried,
Fell broken, tattered, slashed.

The corridors were stained with tears,
The floors now drenched in blood.
The stairways all are broken now,
And railings caked in mud.

Each cabin sleeps in shambles, their
Fine linens torn to shreds.
No pillows lie for pillaging.
The headboards lost their heads.

The castle’s crowning arts were burned
And used for firewood.
No treasures left to mark the stay
Of Bright Ones, of the Good.

And worst of all, the throne room’s been
Defiled and hazed and grayed.
Poor victims strewn in darkest piles
Reside ‘neath darker clay.

Yet still the throne remains unscathed
After the war was done,
For now, that King Society
Here reigns, has finally won.

The grounds now wither in decay,
And nothing here will spawn.
The Kingdom of the Dreamer
Seems now all but gone.