• Black. That is my realm.
    And dark as any midnight.
    I stand upon my dark ship's helm,
    And wish for nothing bright.

    For twas brightness that cast me down,
    Into this most unholy lair,
    And my Lord smiled, did not frown,
    As I was left without a care.

    Am I so vile, so unfit,
    For a piece of Heaven as it is?

    Am I sinner for coveting that,
    Which humans take for granted?

    Oh and here I mock myself in irony,
    For tis irony to be,
    The brightest angel of them all,
    Oh yes, twas a Seraph who did fall.

    And bitterly I resign that I,
    Am destined to my lone existence.

    Humans murder, rape, and bleed,
    Others in a sense of glee,
    And yet, I, merely wanting something of my own,
    Am damned, black, and cold.

    Oh, there is no justice in,
    This lawless apathy,
    For whether it is true or not,
    If He call't sin, then sin it be.

    You despise me and my wicked ways,
    You mortals, how I'll make you pay,
    For you despise me but curse His name,
    And I'll delight in diverting my bitterness to thee.

    I was the bearer of the light,
    Now the prince of dark!
    I loved so much it twas a sin,
    So now I am the faith of sinners!

    But, hate me not when you don't know,
    Me as I truly am,
    I take your blackened souls, tis true,
    But it was Him who made me what I am.

    And here I sit,
    A king upon a jester's throne,
    Watching with cold eyes,
    A world I'll never know.