Legend of The King

In the misty highlands, 'neath the emerald skies,
Where the mountains whisper and the eagle flies,
There ruled a king, with a heart so bold,
In the ancient days, in the times of old.

Oh, hail the king of the Celtic lands,
With a silver sword held in iron hands,
He rode through storms, and he fought through wars,
For the love of king, and the ancient laws.

His voice echoed through the valleys wide,
Calling forth the brave, at his noble side,
With eyes like the sea, after a stormy night,
He led his men into the fiercest fight.

A crown of thorns, on a brow so fair,
A king of the people, with the weight to bear,
He danced with fate, and he courted chance,
In the firelight's glow, he would sing and dance.

Oh, hail the king of the Celtic throne,
Whose legend lives in the hearts of his own,
Through the stone circles, his tale is sung,
Of the king who was old, yet forever young.

So raise your voices, let the song ring clear,
For the Celtic king, we still hold dear,
In the whispers of leaves, in the river's song,
His spirit endures, forever strong.
