Valley of Tears

The Valley of Tears; The Valley of Sin:
Here is the tale of the Forsaken King;
King Kyltoral both wise and brave,
Found great power and become it's slave;

In the city of Gallea - under constant attack,
The King found new ways to hold them back;
No weapon or shield Gallea could craft
King Kyltoral meddled in "Dark Arts";

Facing the magic’s incredible power,
Gallea's foes were forced to cower;
King Kyltoral's wrath made them turn
Back to the Darkland, not soon to return;

With Gallea safe; It's enemies yielded,
King Kyltoral sought more of this power he wielded;
He delved yet deeper into this Arcane world,
More and greater power was quickly unfurled;

Imrathern, sweet Imrathern, King Kyltoral's Queen,
With beauty and wisdom rarely – if ever - seen;
She asked him to stop; She begged, screamed, cried,
Because of these actions, her King cast her aside;

Imrathern left Gallea, banished from her home,
At length, to the city of Arkanoth did the fair Queen roam;
Here, in this city, her heart would sometime mend
In the arms of Lord Rymall, the Kings most trusted friend;

Unfriendly eyes were watching, unfriendly eyes had seen:
Lord Rymall of Arkanoth's union with Imrathern, his Queen;
Unfriendly eyes of King Kyltoral, across the mountain range,
Unfriendly eyes of King Kyltoral, now blinded by a rage;

King Kyltoral knew, now, his Kingdom could divide,
He must go to Arkanoth and return with his Queen at his side;
The road to Arkanoth was long, around the Cold Mountains,
But the King was not concerned with stone or rock or such things;

The straight road to Arkanoth was impossible
The cold, gray mountains stood tall and impassable;
King Kyltoral set upon that road,
His pain and power no mountain could hold;

"The uncrossable road," Kyltoral mocked,
As mountain and peak was levelled as he walked;
"Uncrossable no more - my power, for you, is too much."
"You shall not halt my quest for revenge, for power, for love."

Inside the walls of Arkanoth city,
The wind was cold; The air misty;
Pushing aside the people he ruled,
Kyltoral hunted for Arkanoth's Lord;

On his march he heard a call
He saw his friend Rymall through a red veil;
Stood beside him, Imrathern, still beautiful,
Kyltoral regarded them pitiful;

Enraged and jealous, he struck down them both
To the tears and crys of the city of Arkanoth;
Leaving the city, no remorse, no guilt, no worry,
Kyltoral returned to his forsaken Valley;

Upon those rocks, which once stood tall,
Kyltoral would stumble then fall;
Overcome with guilt; With grief his body was swept
He fell to the stones, he cursed and screamed and wept;

His power-torn body was unable to grieve,
So he stays in his Valley, unwilling to leave;
Still he walks in his Valley of Tears,
His soul still stirs after many, many years;

A warning to those who hide their guilt within:
In his Valley, he will find your sin;
He will see into your soul and inside your heart,
Kyltoral will not let you pass;

Valley of Sin; Valley of Tears;
Valley of Darkness; Valley of Fears;
Kyltoral will not let you pass,
The Forsaken King will never let you pass.