In the heart of spring, a child shall rise, From royal blood, a king's demise. Born of sister, born that day, Kings shall fall in disarray. When springtime blooms, the babe is blessed, Born of kin from the king's own nest, A sister's child, the kingdom shakes, The death of kings, the birth awaits. Born of power in endless night, To cast down realms, a dark birthright. Both fae and mortals, their thrones shall swirl, In the child's hands, lies the end of the world.
