Hymn of the Woodland King

On wooden throne of bough and roots,
There sits the king, the king of woods
Antlered crown upon his fair head
His glade-green eyes yet now seem dead
His mind still wanders in dreams so deep
Until one day he’ll wake from sleep
Thus sits the king, the king of woods
Upon his throne of bough and roots
‘till all shall pass and legends fade
The woodland king shall roam the glade.