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By Hali's Shore

The surface of the lake reflects her still,

The balcony is ruinous and slick,

The King bestirs himself and trails his hand,

Just where his daughter-consort took her life,

She stares up from the aromatic deep,

Betimes she serenades him voicelessly,

She's dead a year and now they come to wed,

Out on the restive lake he throws her ring.

Reflected in the livid light of Moon

They waltz, while on the shattered balcony,

He consummates their love on look-alikes,

Who gratefully receive the royal seed;

Before their terms he strangles them as gifts,

To she who lingers in the rattling reeds.