Put it on display if you must,
Your insatiable lust for glory.
Let me not stand in the way of your ambition,
I would not want to steal the visions
of angelic light and golden skies from your mind.
Do not be misunderstood,
be true in your meaning,
and make sure they know what you want,
that you care only about how to plant
empires in fields of sand,
so that the glory can have a tragic end.
You've always loved tragedy,
I fear one day you will become one.
Worse,
you will do everything to seek that end.
You once told me that
even more beautiful from rising was falling.
All of that glory giving way,
everything floating in perfect sway,
you always found beauty in impact, in collision.
Beauty was only ever made to end,
and you relished ending it.
Loved when chaos took over
a thing intact and whole.
The world may think you noble,
even as far as good is from evil
the world will align your intentions
with the wrong side.
Believe that you are on their side.
But you are only on your side
and I suppose that makes sense,
for what other chaos could pretend calm like you do,
What pain could look so sweet?
To ensnare every bit of good and innocence it meets, well, that would be a rare treat wouldn't it?
I just hope that on the day
all of your chaos meets peace
you will remember that
what seems like glory to everyone else
is just war for you and me.
SK
