Blog, Gothic, Poetry, Writing

Phantasy

 

I’ve sat through the years,

Who tormented at their leisure,

My life I was too proud to end,

Until spite came to lure me,

And offer ideas of creation,

That I alone would hear spoken,

Soon after which came a day,

Where I would ordain myself – a god:

Knowing by heart, conception,

Until through such I happened upon a madness,

That has since consumed me,

Whereto doors are left open,

And seats waiting,

For my newfound pride, 

Who walks only in my mind,

Yet ever by my side. 

 

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