A King's Ego and Sorrow

I am the King of this Kingdom.

My subjects all resemble me.

They are all my seconds, my breaths, my heartbeats.

It is only me they see

Because I am King.

*

I am born to become this.

I am born from the fates special, golden thread.

I am born from the truth of my inevitable royalty.

*

The walls, made of untouched stone, hold only my memories

And if I choose, the castle in which I live changes at my need.

Power flows through me like an ocean's crashing wave.

These riches are gifts from the universe.

The crown shines brightly on me; do you not see?

*

I am in my perfect form.

I am made for this throne made of eternity.

I am in control of all.

*

Because this is a world of my creation—

One which you cannot fathom,

One which you cannot enter, no matter your coin.

I will sit on my throne and watch the door's stay closed,

For all I need is me.

*

I am my own God!

I am my own God.

I am my own god.

*

They do not exist in my realm.

Apart from me,

There is no looking up, no hope for divinity.

My prayers scar my skin,

Reminded of what was and won't be.

*

I am—

*

The voices I hear are all of my echoes.

The view is of a void of my creation.

It is all mine.

All of it.

No matter the time that passes.

*

I am always and never.

I am here and nowhere.

I am alone.

*

Secured at my borders—caged

Because I chose to sit on this throne instead of passing on...somewhere.

I am a misty phantom, a flickering wraith, an unattached soul—

A ghost.

I am king of this...kingdom.