Names given under torture approved by royal decree in a time of war
Rising steam making walls wet, gleaming dripping a shield with a gryphon
Picture of the King’s sisters sitting beside his mistress, quite scandalous
A triptych depicting three types of divine visitors, same number wyrd sisters
That land’s lictor rules it with an iron fist but he keeps them safe they do not insist
On fake smiles and bedtime kisses, they will abide by systems provided they survive
His instinct is always to fight but if it goes awry he has this fastness fortress to hide inside
Ride it out, in his hall wearing hides thanking higher powers for their warning ides
The attackers adamant they will not be denied hide their fear and ride forth
Their broken lines, the broken men who run and hide to die like sick felines
Anyone suspected of being a spy is strapped to a catapult and let fly
Let the sky judge them this night, the stars are bright, barrel braziers burn
Along the horizon, dotted at intervals along the enemy lines he wishes smited
He delights in fighting but loathes this staying inside, behind the lines
Like a cripple denied his right to be a hoplite and show his might
But he does what’s right, what keeps his throne and right to rule
A hole in the mountainside a sage is reputed to lie in
Skewering the last barbary lion and skinning his hide
A jewel a giant might call missized offers mystical guidance
They must await a fisher king’s arrival before riding out.
Alchemisland 
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