Fins and gills
False thrills
River rapids, bottles, pills
Fish don't feel

I look upon my empty throne,
With naught but a kingdom of blood and stone.
This sorrow is all I'll ever own,
An audience of silence is all I've sown.

I can see you looking from the outside
Pondering, curious of the interior.
You do not enter
Simply because there is no door.

Still interested, you look for another way in
To no avail you sit and wait.
I try hard to help
As four walls become six
And six become eight
But truly in the end,
What difference does it make?