I saw Him in a desolate desert; The dark bowels of a dead beast; Sinewy with bones extending from the walls. Dark. Old. Older than time. Older than breath. Life screamed here first. Further down was the snow storm; A constant, infinite stream of sand and snow, Fine as flour. White as pearls. This is forever. This was forever. All was and all became. And amidst the storm, lies a silent space. And amidst this space, He was there. Cloaked with gray and covered with ice; Here lies the Forever King. The Sad King. The Eternal King. He was no one. A speck of dust in an infinite universe, That fell here since the First Day And the world buried His breath. Forgotten in a forgotten land Where stars fear to shine Where angels fear to tread When power first bloomed And the motions of the universe first flowed, And the sky was a lonely virgin. The first one thousand years, This speck of dust screamed like a wounded deer, The next one thousand, there was just sadness. The next thousand, came the acceptance. The next, enlightenment. The next, hopelessness. The next came the eternal nightmare. A hundred thousand years from then, The nightmare became the dream, And the dream flowed like honeyed milk And the dream became all there is. Now He stands here. His clock gray as sin. His crown casts a shadow; A thousand leagues of ice. His breath as clay. At last He exhales his first breath, And the universe fell silent. And the stars burned and bled, And this hollowed world was Him, And the world fell in his eyes, And his heart was that of prophets, And He was the Forever King. The Sad King. The Eternal King.