Dear child,
I, shadow,
Deliver a fortune of despair.
The light in the horizon begins to fade.
The darkness will swallow your world,
Your soul.
Engulfed by an enternal night,
Everything once bright,
Will decay in black.
Dear child,
Forsaken you are,
A king you will become,
To reign over death itself,
Knife at your wrists.
A queens face pierces through mist.
Upon your realm a fire sparks...
Her face withers as ash.
No others shall lie with a king
of a kingdom of a self.
Poor child,
Lost you will become,
Stagger in silence
And understand emptiness.
Dear child,
Sit upon a throne,
Knife at your wrists.
Become sated with the mysteries of shadow,
Realize the secrets hidden in the abyss.
O, what a wise king I will be. |
Submission Name: 'Becoming'
