Beneath the Storm-Crown

I stood where thunder carved the sky,
Where old oaths broke, and none asked why.
The staff I raised was not for war,
But for the ghosts I still fight for.

Boldolph’s eyes were iron flame,
They spoke of love, not seeking fame.
His growl a warning, not a threat
A brother’s bond I won’t forget.

The wolves still watch. The dragons wake.
Each vow we make, each path we take
A storm-born soul must never stray
From fire-wrought truth or shadowed way.

Let others rule with golden tongue,
I lead where pain and praise are sung.
For every scar upon my frame
Is carved from love, not just from flame.