In the capital of the kingdom,
nature is mainly gone,
civilization cultivated,
the buildings architected,

The folks chit chatting,
in their every day acting,
did you hear about the tower,
if you look at it in the first hour,

only in clear moonshine,
through a glass of wine,
a shadow sitting there,
looking like the missing heir,

A nice story, but have you seen,
the western gate is fully green,
when the midday sun,
is abruptly gone,

Evil doing, witchery,
for us a mistery,
Magic the rich say,
sinister in either way,

The side ally in Millers lane,
it is sayn’
It is not always there,
only for the just and fair,

This is why I never recognized,
but I was last week advised,
if I want something do disappear,
without a possible tracking to fear,

use the coal shaft of Golden Ham’s inn,
they say a portal is within.
Same as the wardrobe of Lady Elestrix,
the count of man vanishing inside is six.

The rumors of a big city,
between fairy tale and magic reality,
A network of shadows dark and wide,
used from those who hide,

Thiefs and spies,
mistress of lies,
heros by accident,
and even the innocent.

In the web of shadowpath,
ways beyond logic and math,
like trickery seemingly random,
a battle in the shadows is on.