Trip for a king
Across the shore and past that Riverwalk is something of fine galore, themes of alabaster and gleam of bronze thatll leave even the finest seeking lore,
Merry we went though not knowing we were foreboding a decent of madness that this retreat had laid in store,
Irony she held alike tall glass we beheld as stains among that royal hue,
For at last we made passed that stream which aghast even the mightiest of the taunting few,
Out of blunder we asunder for our dreams that we'd wonder we gave thanks for that blessing of which he knew.
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