They call me vain
They call me cold
Although, some say my heart is made of gold
I tell you to give into your deepest desires
Even if it means bringing down the greatest empires

Maybe that is what makes me cold
Willing to wreck the most grandiose and prepossessing to satisfy a simple desire

Or perhaps it is what covers my heart with gold
Because it is nothing but a delusion of grandeur that was rising above all else. What occupies captivating appearance is not always charming.
Now think again about all the empires that were down.
Look at it from the alternate perspective.
Your refusal, I may understand.
But then,
Does that not make you vain rather than Me?
-L.K.