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Here I sit
upon my throne
with silence
stitched into my bones
reigning the winter
pulling in the snow
upon my home
as darkness nears
rush home
dear heroes
us mute children from the night
drift in ancient memories
i will keep you
when all the lights go out
we will sit
be together in our darkness
huddling for warmth
in the shadows of turned backs
our horror stories will spread
across the ground as we spin our tales
write our sorrows
with broken bones and red ink from our veins
silence us not
bury us not
yet alone we wither to dust
when our words grow too strong
too long
and too tragic
some move on
some grow
and some just go
whittling us down to splinters
when once we were thrones
left like fairy tales
in which small children
no longer believe
one day they will find my bones
cradled in a corner
scribblings on the walls
and dust in my mouth
for all the words
in the world
can not fix
my throne
upon my throne
with silence
stitched into my bones
reigning the winter
pulling in the snow
upon my home
as darkness nears
rush home
dear heroes
us mute children from the night
drift in ancient memories
i will keep you
when all the lights go out
we will sit
be together in our darkness
huddling for warmth
in the shadows of turned backs
our horror stories will spread
across the ground as we spin our tales
write our sorrows
with broken bones and red ink from our veins
silence us not
bury us not
yet alone we wither to dust
when our words grow too strong
too long
and too tragic
some move on
some grow
and some just go
whittling us down to splinters
when once we were thrones
left like fairy tales
in which small children
no longer believe
one day they will find my bones
cradled in a corner
scribblings on the walls
and dust in my mouth
for all the words
in the world
can not fix
my throne
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