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In the silence where the shadows drink,
Beyond the edge where dreamers sink,
He sits upon a throne of bone
The King who rules the night alone.

His crown is forged from shattered cries,
His robes are stitched with severed ties.
Time itself avoids his door,
For none return from Nevermore.

No name to speak, no face to see,
He’s every death you’ll ever be.
The harbinger, the final breath,
The lullaby that sounds like death.

The stars go out when he draws near,
He whispers truths you’ll die to hear.
A master of the quiet scream,
A god who drowns you in your dream.

He walks through prayers that fell unheard,
He breaks your soul with just a word.
The grave obeys his silent lore
All kneel before
The King of Nevermore.

COMMENTS

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Cadrewolf2
19:47 May 20 2025

Excellent words

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