A mighty King sits high on his throne
He is all alone.
A ruler of nothing with borrowed grace
In time he will learn his place.
A crown of lies lays upon his head.
Troupes of darkness does he command.
An army of despair pillars and plunges
While the lone King judges.
Sire of insanity.
Murderer of hope.
Dusty robes in which he is clothed
Do not belong.
Carrying a sword bathed in tears
None will sing his song.
Heart of stone.
Thrown of fire.
He will never know love