Shiny, clear cones,
fall from the vast, blue-gray
shape, far above where the eye
can barely reach, to sweep over
graciously, as little miracles are produced
from it.
They reach the greenery,
longing to soak into the natural
colors that are sprouted from
The Sphere.
Millions of microsophic blinking
circles are watching you interestedly,
their gaze never leaving the devil of you,
sweeping over your body hungrily.
One in particular, the king, takes a liking to you.
He calls off his vicious longing of mankind,
because of one distorted face, crying out in pain.
His interest is far to short of time,
because no one has ever seen
your beautiful being again.
Now all that is left of you
is your disgusting soul, screaming out in agony.
Your bloody heart lay at his feet.
Now you are a shadow.
Dark and forgotten.
