They set off into the night with ambition,
as fantastic wishes and devious devices,
filled their adventurous minds.
The insatiable lust of golden treasures,
hardened deep within aging arteries,
blinding glinting eyes with hope.
The songbird flying south,
towing word of good news,
far from northerner’s ears.
Then the riding messenger,
dances through the dusky fog,
of his plotted demise,
A gilded arrow was true,
tracking its cloaked target,
piercing his heart.
An entire forest grew silent,
when he collapsed from his horse,
as if felled by the wind.
His kingdom forged forward,
but little did they know,
oh, how little did they know.