Deep inside a dungeon down,
Where light can’t enter
and the dark wears a crown
A prisoner sits aside the center

It’s where icy cold always reigns
A giant rock-giant sits-
His despair runs through his veins
No spark his hart-anymore,- lits

head on his knees,
arms folded around-
the only sound-
guards with their violent spears,
haunting him like bees.
But no more man he fears (at all.)

He can’t seem to remember –
When he was captured,
the memory’s still too fresh
His heart is certainly injured.

Who he once was, a respectable prince
occures to his woeëd mind sometimes.
It rather hurts, when it re-convinces
What has happened to him at all.

He must have been there, beaten up by fears.
for over hundred years, or so it seems.
And within those hundred years,
No lightning has ever deep down gleamed.