Once a man now a god
Twisted power in mortal hands flawed
What remains of the soul when the heart turns cold?
A crown forged in light but heavy with gold
Once a man with mortal breath
Now wielding light that brings only death
He walked the world like all of us
But power whispered and he could not trust
He reached for the stars his hands touched the sky
The cost of the heavens was far too high
Now all he commands is nothing but ash
A god in ruins a man who crashed
His wrath is divine born from a lie
A man who grasped the heavens too high
Now a tyrant of holy fire and control
His humanity buried deep in his soul
The magic in his blood not meant for men
Shaped him into something far beyond them
The earth bows low the skies bend to his will
But a part of him longs for something still
He knows no peace though he holds all the keys
His heart whispers of a time he was free
Chains of divinity wrap around his mind
But somewhere within a man he still finds
His wrath is divine born from a lie
A man who grasped the heavens too high
Now a tyrant of holy fire and control
His humanity buried deep in his soul
Once he knew fear once he knew pain
Now those emotions feel distant insane
He burns with the fury of a god out of time
But deep in his chest echoes of man still chime
No angel or man can rival his might
Their wings turn to dust in his holy light
But in his eyes the past never fades
A boy with dreams lost in godly charades
Now he speaks in a voice so cold
Of kingdoms fallen empires sold
He crushes the world beneath his hand
But once he was just like any man
He reached for the stars not knowing the price
Now his power is both his gift and his vice
With every life he takes something dies within
The ghost of his past haunting again
His wrath is divine born from a lie
A man who grasped the heavens too high
Now a tyrant of holy fire and control
His humanity buried deep in his soul
(Soft fading)
He was once a man with mortal dreams
Now a god who tears apart at the seams
For the crown he wears is heavy with power
A twisted gift in his darkest hour
Though his hands hold the might of gods untold
In his heart a story remains of flesh grown cold