Beneath the cold and damp earth,
There lives a wise and cunning King.
He who is immortal and fair at birth,
Whose life the thorny vines hath bring.
/
All through the ruthless winter,
His Court falls into sleep,
All through the raging summer,
His Court made all men weep.
/
The Fair King brings endless wars,
With a subtle wave of his silver hand.
His Court battles under the burning stars,
Blood flows thick across the men's land.
/
When he moves, nobody sees
His sword that gleamed like glass.
With it he slashed his enemies,
Their bodies lifeless among the grass.
/
It is unwise for one to think,
the Fair King's help is of great need.
Heed the warning and do not drink,
the cup of poison that is the King's deed.
/
All may seem so bright and fair,
Promises and words con
