high up in the sprawling clouds of the electrical storm
The cracks on the citadel walls begin to form
They mirror the cracks, upon the beating heart
The silence of laughter are far apart
In a room that mirrors the shadows of the devil himself
a fire rages and casts a glimmer on the dusty books on the shelf
the huge hands of tight black veins
Hold his head, and hide his pains
two long grey horns protrude from his head
Eyes are sunken into his skull, like the living dead
As the thunder rages with so much power
The lighting strikes the black bricked tower
Just like his heart of stone
A green fungi grows, around his throne
As he weeps another ocean, and screams another hurricane
His skin is boiling red, as his blood is scolded by frustration
He turns his head and his massive frame
Eternity of heartbreak fall from his shoulders releasing the strain
And as he looks, out of the small window
To the vortex of emotions in the ground below
Knowing he will never know...................
What it is to love?