Without food and rain, the terrain turned into a barren land
And its castle crumbled through disuse and mismanagement.
The ground became such an impenetrable permafrost that
The King was forced to forget his yearly profits and 
Concentrate on shortfalls.  The Enchantment Trust relegated
His establishment to a Faery Castle Second Class and he
Began to lose his staff.  The King lolled in his Throneroom,
Moaning about the decline of summer and the decay of his
Olivegroves.  Even his Fool wasn't amusing anymore and his
Courtiers had run out of mellow conversation.  One by one
They left to visit relatives south of the border.  So his castle
Dimmed by degrees and its star attraction, The Princess,
Became ill through lack of flattery from suitors.  Desperate
To repair his flagging fortunes, The King decided on an
Ad Campaign throughout the length and breadth of the land.
To no avail.  The horses slithered too much, suffered
Too many broken bones from the thickening ice to enable
Their Knights to successfully broach the drawbridge 
And present themselves at Court.  The King was in despair.
His Faery Godmother visited him in his chamber one night,
Waved her wand and promptly informed him that his land,
Castle and retinue were forthwith Disenchanted by Order of
The Grand Council.  With his head in his hands, The King
Burst into tears.  To this day, the permafrost is thick as ever
And The King's northern lands are completely cut off.
They say that the Marsh Witch did it, she was in a puff 
Because he forgot to send her a birthday present.  Whatever
The reason, nobody has been up there for so long that
It's possible the whole saga is a total fairytale.
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