A child, too scared to face the world,
Crafted a man brighter than the sun.
The man, with charm, spoke in his stead,
To ease the fears that had begun.

But still, the child felt bitter pain,
So he forged one strong, too firm to yield—
A figure carved in stone's embrace,
To bear the wounds that would not heal.

The child longed for love, yet feared its touch,
So he shaped a heartless, sharpened gaze—
A sentinel to block the flood
Of emotions veiled in shadowed haze.

Still lonely, the child wove a friend,
So warm, the heavens burned with spite.
This friend, with stories soft and sweet,
Held his hand through every night.

But from mortals came a threat too great,
So a guardian, unbeaten, rose—
A force to rival heaven's gates,
To shield the child from worldly foes.

Then fate itself grew envious,
And twisted threads with vicious spite.
Thus, another form took shape—
A being stronger than the light.

The heavens roared in angered storms,
And hell's deep flames began to swell,
Yet the being simply cast a glance,
Then took the throne to silence hell.

With power beyond the gods’ own reign,
It severed fate’s eternal string,
And closed its eyes upon the throne,
To wait in stillness till the right time came.

Selfish I Am

I’d trade the sunshine to see her smile once more,
For it’s the only sunshine I’ve ever known.

I’d give up all the flowers, just to breathe her in again,
For her scent is the only fragrance I seek.

I’d surrender the air itself, just to feel her touch,
For her touch is the only warmth I crave.

I’d forsake this gray world, if only to hold her
For a fleeting second—
Because she is the world to me.

Hunger was all he had known,
So he ate all he could.

Riches gone, fields laid bare—
The hungry king came,
And the people fled in fear.

He devoured the grains, the vegetables,
He feasted on the beasts of the land.
Yet still, the hunger burned, unsatisfied.

So he turned to his people,
First the peasants, then the ministers,
Until none were left—
The land now barren, with no one to rule,
For he had consumed them all.

The king cried, for the sin of gluttony
Clung to his mind.
In despair, he devoured his queen,
Then the children he had fathered.

Still, the hunger gnawed at him.
Until he met my gaze,
Hoping to find relief in my flesh.

He ran, with all his might,
Falling at my feet,
And dug his ugly teeth into my flesh.

The demon of gluttony smiled.

"Oh, King of Hunger," I called.
"Rejoice, for your misery ends here."

He saw then his own hand
Within his mouth,
Felt the disgust rise,
And he wept.

The King of Hunger,
Died at last—
Of hunger.

A small bird, no larger than my hand,
Shielded something precious from the rain.

Concerned, I stepped closer,
Wondering what she so tenderly guarded.

Must be a mother, I thought,
From the fierce, gentle look in her eye.
The rain ceased, and the precious one meowed.

Confused, I saw the mother protect
A son not hers, a kindness
Perhaps even heaven had never known.

The kitten played and leapt,
Until a hunter came, hunger in his eyes,
Ready to devour the helpless child.

The mother wept and offered herself,
Her own life in place of the one she saved.
The hunter agreed, and thus
The virtue of kindness left the kitten orphaned.

Perhaps I would have helped—
But she never asked.
So I, unlike her,
Do not wear the angel's wings of kindness.

Under the starry, storm-streaked sky,
The rain collided, fierce and wild.
Lovers hid from the world’s sly eye,
In a cave, by moonlight beguiled.

She, in a gown once pure and white,
Now dirtied, loose, and torn with time—
A princess fallen from her height,
A traitor’s love, forbidden crime.

Cold crept in, but heat arose,
A fire lit where shadows lay.
Her eyes met his, dark as his sins,
And lust began its hungry sway.

The god of love, amused, looked down,
As lips met lips, the sin began.
Sweet taste, soft skin—he felt her drown,
His tongue with hers, a desperate dance.

In his arms, she closed her eyes,
Breathless, gasping, bodies tight.
Sweat clung to skin, the heat, the rise,
As her gown fell, lost in the night.

Her beauty now revealed to him,
An angel's form, bare as snow.
Her body shone in the cave’s dim,
A goddess bathed in sinful glow.

He touched her soul, his hands defied,
All that was holy, all she'd hide.
The taste of her, elixir sweet,
He drank it down, complete, complete.

The deed was done, the passion spilled,
Her purity lost in mud and rain.
Yet still they burned, desire fulfilled,
A sin made holy through their pain.

Under the sky, the stars looked on,
Their bodies spent, their breaths as one.
The world forgot, the night was kind—
Lust and love forever twined.

How do I atone for the sins I've done?
How will heaven make me face its plan?
Or is it hell that waits for me, its scorn?

Will they make my love endure the pain?
But that won’t work—I have no dreams to chase.
Will hunger gnaw at me until I break?
Yet I won’t yield—I have no need for taste.

Will they pluck my nails, one by one,
As demons smile, their work begun?
Then break my bones, slow, piece by piece,
While angels cheer and find release?

Will they tear my skin, shred by shred,
To claim their victory in blood I've shed?
But even that may prove in vain—
I do not flinch; I feel no pain.

So tell me now, how do they intend
To make one atone who has no will to bend?
No love for life, no fear of death—
The question lingers, haunting yet.

Liar I am, to claim I love her most,
Yet dwell in shadows, truths unspoken.
Afraid, perhaps, to meet her gaze again,
Still, my heart longs, though words are broken.

Desire stirs to glimpse her face anew,
Yet fear confines me, feet reluctant, slow.
I tread the path where her footsteps faded,
Tracing echoes as the night turns to dawn's glow.

Maybe I’ll smile with my heart alight,
When at last her presence graces my sight.
Maybe I’ll stare, my gaze transfixed,
When our eyes meet in the quiet of the night.

Maybe my world will halt, time held still,
When her voice once more finds its way to me.
Or perhaps she’ll cast a piercing glare,
Wounding my heart with a touch of melancholy.

Maybe she’ll reclaim my heart,
To let me rend it with my own hands.
Or maybe she’ll remain unaware,
As I falter, hesitating, in my stands.

But the time is not right; I keep it sealed,
Entrusting it to a fate long concealed.