So he went and went, the mid time king
With his face on the road and his mind on the wind
When the crows started to sing
He declined the wisdom of his mind.

His long path way out of being completed
With his eyes and mind closed
The crows undefeated
Started to poison his mind from time to time
So then he shall be remembered
As the king of crimes.

And there it goes, the mid time king in his endless pride
Remembered by his devotion of the day but his slothful soul at night
Puppet of the ravens and his own mind
So then the time came when he have to fight to death with his own envy
He fought day and night
Himself and his envy on a dance of swords
He, weaker than his envy, lost the grip of the fight, drowned by his pride.
So then the proud king killed himself. Ending the fight of his mind
And ending the story of the unkind.