The Kings Hill Riding gallant on horseback, Razhul is the King of the land. Wind blowing through his hair, With his iron weapon to hand. His eyes are brushed grey steel, He is handsome with rugged looks. Been in one too many tavern fights, But the brute loves to read books. His stare can stop you in your tracks, If you dare question his authority. The heart of a wolf and beast, But a gentleman for the majority. His hand will help the poor and weak, His heart is also made of pure gold. He will be handsome for many years, Even when he turns grey and old. Brave and fearless are traits he keeps, With strength and speed to spare. Riding up to the top of a hill, Just to see what was over there. His chiseled jaw turned into a smile, For something had caught his eyes. The peace and beauty of all the land, Would always have a new surprise.