The Throne of Bone
He sits upon a throne of bone
Sits and waits much like a stone
Waits for the perfect time to strike
To strike the rich and poor alike
To raise the world until it dies
To torture men until they cry
To reduce the world to ash and smoke
To walk upon it would mean to choke
Til’ rivers run with blood alone
Til’ the world is filled with all men’s bones
To raise to world to ash and dust
To destroy mankind is Satan’s lust
To take the world to call his own
He waits upon his throne of bone
poem by Tim Vallie
Added by Poetry Lover
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