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Rated: · Poetry · Other · #1383190
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The pleading whispers behinde the door,
Shatter upon the edges of my soul.
Leaving nothing more than a vauge
rememberance of what was.
Pomp and circumstance sounds
quietly through the empty halls
of a tormented fortress.
As the arrogance of an impetuious child
leaves the shadowed wraiths
in maddening silence,
following the tainted whispers
of the beast that dwells within.
Believe in nothing,
as the emptiness returns.
The Monster sits quietly,
sipping from the eternal darkness
that spills forth from a golden chalice.
Lost within the Tormented Fortress
of broken promises,
he sits in the Kings chamber,
waiting for the Queen.
The breath of the beast caresses
the back of his neck,
stirring his fear from deep within.
Tainted whispers seep into his soul,
twisting and devouring,
what is left of an arrogant child.
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