A kingdom built on his guilt,
You'll watch his eyes slowly tilt.
Breaking under the pressure,
His pain is difficult to measure,
Do you know his heart lays still?
Pupils with shards of darkness,
And a quill profusely sharpened.
I think he missed the target,
With his soul from black to scarlet,
As it dripped atop the marble.
He doused his hands in cyanide,
To try and disintegrate his pride.
And sadly, all his colors went,
Along his shaking final breath,
He's grey and aching inside-
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