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The rusted chains of prison moons Are shattered by the sun I walk a road, horizons change The tournament's begun The purple piper plays his tune The choir softly sing Three lullabies in an ancient tongue For the court of the crimson king The keeper of the city keys Put shutters on the dreams I wait outside the pilgrim's door With insufficient schemes The black queen chants The funeral march The cracked brass bells will ring To summon back the fire witch To the court of the crimson king The gardener plants an evergreen Whilst trampling on a flower I chase the wind of a prism ship To taste the sweet and sour The pattern juggler lifts his hand The orchestra begin As slowly turns the grinding wheel In the court of the crimson king On soft gray mornings widows cry The wise men share a joke I run to grasp divining signs To satisfy the hoax The yellow jester does not play But gentle pulls the strings And smiles as the puppets dance In the court of the crimson king
A panoramic digital painting depicting a procession of people, including women, men, and children, shackled together by chains across a medieval-like courtyard. The people are dressed in dark red and earth-toned hooded cloaks and robes. Columns of people extend from the foreground towards a distant, imposing stone building with a large arched entrance in the center. The building is flanked by other large stone structures, including one on the left with prominent vertical beams and another on the right with arched windows. The sky is dark and cloudy, with a bright, luminous, sun-like moon or celestial body dominating the upper center, casting an ethereal glow over the scene. The overall atmosphere combines elements of fantasy, despair, and an ancient, mysterious setting.
