Six feet separate you from that ghost,
standing high up on that throne.
Ne'er haunted by those souls
though that absence you thrive upon.
Hidden in the shadows of your own regret
you forget what lay behind.
What you have done to achieve that position
those skeletons in your closet.

Know that the sun will never shine upon
that ambiance, a gift that you have lost.
You wield your tainted sword, still unaware...
while the GODS vindicate your wrongs,
throwing you down, battered, beaten, and bruised.
What you once destroyed, now return that punishment.
You wish it was a dream, you want to right your wrongs
Your wish granted and you return to your ways,
and your hopes revoked.
Death handed to the handler
eyes never laid upon that crumbling empire.
 
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