Kavanhus

In taverns of midnight, the whispers began
Of a figure who conquered with a smile, not a hand
With strings of low thunder, he carved out the air
And a beard like a banner, a crown he would wear

They called him Kavanhus, the God of the flame
Of laughter, of longing, of unspoken names
A shadow, a story, a secret untold
A mortal made legend, a myth made of gold

No throne, no crown, no kingdom to keep
Just a song in the night, where the faithful would weep
His gaze was a torch, his voice was the sea
A storm and a silence where hearts longed to be

Kavanhus, lord of the bearded light
A God who was born in the echoes of night
No temple, no altar, yet hearts bowed down
For the cavanhaque became his crown

Kavanhus, lord of the bearded flame
A myth that was carved in the sound of his name
No temple, no altar, yet hearts still sing
For Kavanhus reigns as an endless king

The maidens would gather, the stories would grow
Of a God with no kingdom, yet power to bestow
Not riches, not glory, nor blades to defend
But the fire of presence, that never would end

Through laughter and shadows, through silence and cheers
He carried the weight of the fleeting years
No mortal, no myth, could ever compare
To the God of the beard, who still lingers there

Kavanhus, lord of the bearded light
A God who was born in the echoes of night
No temple, no altar, yet hearts bowed down
For the cavanhaque became his crown

Kavanhus, lord of the bearded flame
A myth that was carved in the sound of his name
No temple, no altar, yet hearts still sing
For Kavanhus reigns as an endless king

In the hush of the night, his story remains
A God born of laughter, of joy, not of chains
Kavanhus, eternal, where shadows belong
A whisper, a legend, a beard and a song