I won a staring contest against the eye of a storm;
She hissed lightning and wailed thunder,
so I screamed back the curses of dead stars.
I gripped my shadow by the throat and strangled her under a full moon
til Life filled her lungs.
I bound the weaver of time to his arcane loom
and cut off his skin with broken glass
to stitch it back on inside out.
I found the heart of philosophy
and ripped it out with cold hands
to replace it with a block of cheese.
I stole the teeth of Death's hounds
to decorate my throne
alongside blood diamonds and moon stones.
And as I sit on my throne,
and my golden blood mixes with silver tears,
I have to wonder how far I've fallen
to reach Paradise
