Rotting in their graves
Their heirs still enslaved

Beheld by their spell
The curse of royal birth
The slaves, those who live:
Their heirs- their minds, their ears!

“i've heard them in dreams
Speaking, words obscene
Ruling, all my will
Surely, to rule is hell!”

Enthralled by the dead
Their whims the kings are fed
Their acts controlled by force
The wills of kings: remorse

In the face of death
A king's regret
A spell once cast
The curse now lasts

Now the curse of thrones
All his kin have known
The force of his will
And those who would die still

“the kings, they speak
To me in sleep
Their will, i can't evade
In thoughts, i must obey…”