Black Throne
I sit on my throne, made of black marble and tears. I sit on my throne, high and mighty and gaze upon the world I have crafted. There is no war, for I have decimated everyone that once stood against me. There is no false idealism for I have removed from the heart of men the capacity of hope, of believing in anything that is not my iron-clad rule. I have render entire civilizations to dust and raise new ones from the ashes just to create this. My perfect world. And now, as I stand on my throne made of black marble and tears I finally realize how empty my achievements are. How fate has put on my way something that I can not defeat. For no living man can win against an empty room. There is no one, no one is left but the maggots that dare not look me in the eye, much less challenge me. And now, on this room full of emptiness, where the silent screens of the ghosts are so loud that I'm almost deafened by them, on my throne made of black marble and tears, I reali