I find the pains in my stony heart to be something to find beauty in. The fires of the home I once loved and the ashes that laid onto the ground. The tortured screams of the world which I hate so much. This is the muse, the world in my mind and the love that burns behind my glassy eyes. The art in me disappears when a smile graces my face. I am a dying artist and the stillness in my imagination is like a quaking mountain.
The temple of my mind that has light lays in the land of sadness. All my desires are destroyed in a beautiful rage and swallowed up in a sea of woe. I want to see your hate and I want to love you in your anger. That is what my temptation is. I love the winter memories and all its loss. My mind hungers for pain. To some, the suffering is a devil on their back but it is my angel with a guiding path. This is the empire I have made for myself and the land in which I shall dwell. It is a crumbling pala