In the world of eternal night,
The realm of infinite snow.
The seas flow over with tears,
The roads fill up with fears.
Amidst the dreary masses,
A tiny spark of hope.
The little angel borne on wings,
The littel angel leashed with rope.
The master of the angel,
A towering obelisk of Darkness.
He strides above mere mortals,
Penetrates with his steely gaze.
The master of the Darkness,
The raw emotions of man.
The writhing mass of anger and hatred,
The swirling pool of sorrow and tears.
The world that man dream of,
Will never be reality.
For the world that man live in,
Is created by their feelings.
The Creators stay high above,
Staring down at their Creations.
They heave a sigh of sadness,
And leave behind their chosen.
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