Martin Vann

The Victory Of Kings

Hollowed darkness, once clear and bright
Now, imposing portals, to the horrors within
Soaked in life's blackened wine, chambered from sight
The rotting remains, are the souls of men

Free from their flight, upon dark wings
The victorious surgically, claim their spoils
One tiny morsel, one dream at a time
Filling their bellies, from the words of kings

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