• He sits in his tower
    Brooding upon his throne
    Of skulls, bones, desecration.

    He is made of stone,
    Eye of sapphire,
    Eye of ruby.
    Heart of granite,
    Marbled skin.

    In his tower,
    From his vantage,
    He stares beneath, below
    At those who have wronged him
    And taken that which was not theirs.

    His humanity,
    A trifle thing to pay
    For the power
    To bring ruin upon them.

    From his tower made of bones,
    Of hatred, despair and thrones
    He feels but nothing
    Long ago, rage, lust, need.
    Gone, offered up so as to
    Not feel the pain, the sorrow, the grief.

    He sits in his tower,
    Upon his throne,
    Remains of the fallen at his feet,
    His heart of stone,
    Eye of sapphire,
    Eye of ruby,
    Tears of diamond.

    He sits in his tower,
    Upon his throne
    A man made stone,
    A man unmade of sorrow,
    A man crying tears,
    A man utterly alone.