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King of the Void
He mounts the Storms,
Wild winds whipping in his wake,
A God unto his realm,
Made not of solid ground
But drifting, swirling eddies and twirls
That flirt with planetary pulls
And revolutions.
Given life by the Great Queen
He hatches plots into the
Secrets ears of his winds,
Whispering his Nothingness into
The Fabrics of Her gown
While pleading for power.
Strong and tall yet he stands
Manner noble and face filled with honor,
With ruin in his heart and
The Will to defy Her,
The need to take Her place,
Her seat at the heart of all.
The Dance of Destruction
Has only just begun.
Just...
...Wow! beautifully descriptive and enticing to read!
I aplogeise if you feel my poems are not correctly standardised or grammatically perfect - dark, too detailed, etc... Alot of my writing just flows all in one, so I try not to edit it afterwards otherwise I start changing the work- which h