Here it comes

The time to atone

The time to run

Or claim the throne

The night wind blows

His mind reels

He is hurt

And broken and steeled

He stands tall

Head held high

Dark eyes glinting

And shaking thighs

He is not missed

He is barley seen

Against an onslaught of voices

One quiet scream

This is the perfect time

To get sweet revenge

Or to feel sweet love

And attempt to avenge

She was sweet as her name

He loved her until the bitter rain

He tried to find a light

But his light hid fangs

To love her, he had to go

Flit away like a lonely lark

But her memory lives within him

He must save her final mark

The son she died for

The spawn of a stag

He must protect the boy

He cannot lag

He is broken

He is half gone

But he still has a quiet voice

That still has one song

He utters her name

He hides from his fears

He gives a soft cry

And sheds bitter tears

Yet, he calls the doe forth

Urges her o'er a hill to stay

Silent he watches

And his heart canters away

Though he did right

He carries not the rose or the bone

But in the middlest shade of grey

He stands alone

Here the Prince stands

He had his time to atone

And he did not run

He seized the throne