In the realm of Lordaeron’s strife,
A prince emerged, Arthas by name.
With strength and honor as his guide,
He sought to protect his land’s wide.
The scourge invaded, darkness fell,
And Arthas’ heart grew shadowed and swell.
Desperate for power, he sought the rune,
A blade that sealed his fate too soon.
Arthas, the Lich King, a tragic tale,
From hero’s dawn to darkness, he set sail.
A puppet of the Scourge, his heart aflame,
A harbinger of death, consumed by shame.
Torn between duty and desire,
Arthas embraced the Lich King’s fire.
His soul consumed, his mind controlled,
A puppet of evil, his fate unrolled.
As Lich King, he rose with icy might,
Leading the undead in endless night.
His former friends became his foes,
As he spread terror wherever he goes.
Arthas, the Lich King, a tragic tale,
From hero’s dawn to darkness, he set sail.
A puppet of the Scourge, his heart aflame,
A harbinger of death, consumed by shame.
In Northrend’s icy grip, a prince of might,
Arthas Menethil, destiny alight.
A paladin of light, steadfast and true,
But darkness lurked, a whisper in his cue.
Temptation’s call, a sword of gleaming frost,
Frostmourne’s blade, a fate he must exhaust.
With every swing, his soul grew cold,
A path of darkness, his story yet untold.
Arthas, the Lich King, a tragic tale,
From hero’s dawn to darkness, he set sail.
A puppet of the Scourge, his heart aflame,
A harbinger of death, consumed by shame.
In Icecrown’s keep, he ruled with icy might,
A frozen throne, his everlasting blight.
He raised the dead, an army of the damned,
Souls trapped in darkness, at his command.
But hope flickered still, a glimmer in the night,
A band of heroes, guided by destiny’s light.
They stormed the citadel, a valiant stand,
To end the Lich King’s reign, to reclaim the land.
In a realm of shadow, the battle surged,
Arthas’s power, by Frostmourne urged.
But one by one, his allies fell,
His heart burdened by their final farewell.
Arthas, the Lich King, a tragic tale,
From hero’s dawn to darkness, he set sail.
A puppet of the Scourge, his heart aflame,
A harbinger of death, consumed by shame.
With Frostmourne shattered, his reign expired,
Arthas’s soul to the void retired.
A tragic hero, a cautionary tale,
Of how darkness can prevail over the pale.
In the annals of history, his name shall live,
Arthas Menethil, who darkness did give.
A lesson learned, a sacrifice untold,
To guard against the darkness that makes us cold.
created by udio w/o lyrics
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