The man walked smiling, purpose unknown,
Bonds he denied, claiming unworthy alone.
A lover wept, her tears like snow,
But still, he whispered, "I cannot grow."

People mocked, yet on he went,
Angel of humility, ever-present.
Wings of virtue weighed him down,
Day and night, in silence, he'd drown.

A child begged with trembling plea,
"Save my mother, please set her free."
The man reached out, but then withdrew,
As the angel whispered, "This is not for you."

A tear fell slow, and with a sigh,
He softly spoke, "Unworthy am I."
The child looked deep, both man and guide,
With stone in hand, no fear to hide.

She slit his throat, and blood ran red,
The angel smiled, the man near dead.
"Do not save yourself, preacher of humility,
Unworthy you are," the angel cried.

The man, at peace, let his hand fall,
Smiling at last, he’d answered the call.
Freed of his virtue, his burdens deep,
Worthy at last of eternal sleep.

Never have I loved another,
Friends I claimed, mere masks to cover.
Family ties feel cold and distant,
In this web, my heart’s insistent.

The one I cherished, the light I sought,
May just be another pawn I’ve caught.
Lies so profound, entwined in my core,
Harm inflicted, yet I feel no score.

For I am vile, a hideous shade,
The demon I feared, now unafraid.
In the mirror, I see the truth unfold,
The face I dreaded, the story told.

Heaven’s grace has not abandoned me,
It’s I who turned from its clarity.
Fate’s strings remain, untouched by time,
Yet I’ve crafted my own silent crime.

What I sought to gain, the harm I’ve sown,
The answers linger, but I stand alone.
Indeed, I am the being I loathe the most,

A haunting reflection, a chilling ghost.

Deception, a term I never claimed,
Yet now the truth has me untamed.
I weave the guise of saintly grace,
Pretending kindness, wearing a face.

I craft illusions of love so bright,
Yet deep within, I harbor spite.
In hatred’s grip, I twist and turn,
A vile creature with much to learn.

Goals I held, so close yet far,
Trapped in the shadows of my own bizarre.
Proclaiming purity, naive and true,
While hiding the darkness that’s born anew.

I speak of manipulation, a master’s art,
Blinded to the lies that dwell in my heart.
Bonds I’ve shattered, lives undone,
The guilt, it seems, I’ve never known.

For in the mirror, the truth’s laid bare:
I’ve loved but one—myself, laid bare.
The obsession with hate, a cruel embrace,
Reflects the monster I’ve come to face.

I harmed the one I claimed to adore,
Yet here I stand, breathing once more.
Promises made to stop this fight,
Now echo softly in the dead of night.

Demons I loathed still reside within,
Controlled by me, a twisted kin.
Is it regret that haunts my mind,
Or the weight of the lies I’ve left behind?

Master of deception, indeed I stand,
A tangled web spun by my own hand.

I’ll gaze into your eyes and mirror your smile,
Feel your pain, and share your joy awhile.
Yet in return, a piece I’ll take,
For I am a thief, and stories I make.

A hunger deeper than the abyss, I hold,
I’ll walk beside you in the night so cold.
But in return, with quiet grace,
I’ll write your tale and leave no trace.

For I am a weaver, with timeless ink,
Stealing moments faster than you think.

I’ll bear your sins, and serve your hell,
And in return, grant heaven’s swell.
But will you let me walk your way?
A part of your story, come what may?

For mine is lost, in time’s cruel sway,
Shattered fragments, more than stars can say.

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.