Reinventing the wheel once again for fun
It's what we do in this land of seven sons
All in line for the throne of sixteen gemstones
Named such for the gems that used to be inset across the top
Though now there is only three
All of these seven sons quested for their father the king
In search of the gems to complete him and his seat
Restoring glory to the land
Or so was the plan
With the first one was named Sven
Renowned for his strength
As a man named Sven just might arguably be
Traveled to the land of Iron seeking gemstone secrets
Bending steel bars over his head while trying to impress some ladies
Cracking his skull upon some exceptionally strong alloy one day
And then there were six
Olaf was number two
All of his brother and father never let him forget it
"You were born one too late" they'd say
"Too late to make a difference
You might as well find your own way"
So he did
Going half around the world and again
Discovering things he'd never tell about
Because seriously, they treated him so shitty they don't deserve to hear it
Marrying a lovely girl who looked nothing like him
Unlike all the women back in the kingdom who were practically pale skinned close kin
Which leaves only five
Freyide was pretty weak and dull
Altogether hopeless in most every endeavor
Unless it had to do with food
Though to everyone's surprise
Not least of all his own
With a bite into a strange foreign bread
He busted his eyetooth upon an odd unground bit of wheat
Which turned out to not be wheat at all
But one of the missing gems
You'd think there was a story about how it ended up in Freyide's bread
But nobody made it out alive
After Freyide turned into a rage monster from the pain deep inside
As the gem cut open his tender bits from in to out
Leaving that inn a smoking rubble
And that fifth son to crap out the gemstone alone in the woods
Naked and alone with no memory of what he'd done
Staggering back to the castle in a state of disarray
Trophy held high till he fell into the moat
Impaled upon a stake of paranoia placed there by his grandfather
Shiny stone held firmly in now rock hard hands
Four brothers left
But the king is up one more jewel
It's how he figures things upon his selfish ledger
Though it is not the way a father should think and overly cruel
It's what we do in this land of seven sons
All in line for the throne of sixteen gemstones
Named such for the gems that used to be inset across the top
Though now there is only three
All of these seven sons quested for their father the king
In search of the gems to complete him and his seat
Restoring glory to the land
Or so was the plan
With the first one was named Sven
Renowned for his strength
As a man named Sven just might arguably be
Traveled to the land of Iron seeking gemstone secrets
Bending steel bars over his head while trying to impress some ladies
Cracking his skull upon some exceptionally strong alloy one day
And then there were six
Olaf was number two
All of his brother and father never let him forget it
"You were born one too late" they'd say
"Too late to make a difference
You might as well find your own way"
So he did
Going half around the world and again
Discovering things he'd never tell about
Because seriously, they treated him so shitty they don't deserve to hear it
Marrying a lovely girl who looked nothing like him
Unlike all the women back in the kingdom who were practically pale skinned close kin
Which leaves only five
Freyide was pretty weak and dull
Altogether hopeless in most every endeavor
Unless it had to do with food
Though to everyone's surprise
Not least of all his own
With a bite into a strange foreign bread
He busted his eyetooth upon an odd unground bit of wheat
Which turned out to not be wheat at all
But one of the missing gems
You'd think there was a story about how it ended up in Freyide's bread
But nobody made it out alive
After Freyide turned into a rage monster from the pain deep inside
As the gem cut open his tender bits from in to out
Leaving that inn a smoking rubble
And that fifth son to crap out the gemstone alone in the woods
Naked and alone with no memory of what he'd done
Staggering back to the castle in a state of disarray
Trophy held high till he fell into the moat
Impaled upon a stake of paranoia placed there by his grandfather
Shiny stone held firmly in now rock hard hands
Four brothers left
But the king is up one more jewel
It's how he figures things upon his selfish ledger
Though it is not the way a father should think and overly cruel
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