Frantic Bleep but a memory

The king abdicates
In favor of one's son
Ruined by the waves
Of cold and distant spirals
In the corners
they were moulded
The two hailstorm
spears
With moat protection
From time immemorial
Carvings bore testimony to
The three Circletowers
Behind the rock walls
He mourned his children
Deceived by the wrought-iron gates
Four summers from the arrival
The watchmen
of the forest lands
Went through with their task