He weeps in silence like a sinner,
walking alone in a land of fear.
Cold laughter sounds; a voice croons, "Thinner.
Until just a bag of bones lines here."
So falls a king, haunted and slimmer—
—and from leagues beyond, monsters draw near.
King of Bones, his face a skull shaped hollow,
risen from grey sands, this he saw:
his tainted court of the damned, the shallow,
the white spider’s sting and the dead crow’s caw.
He cries out, “To the Tower follow,
all who crave an end to blind men’s law!”
