Xavria

Pale soul, Pale soul, Take me to a land where I may be made whole, A land where the sun never sets, Because it never rises, A land where lust and greed never recede, And need not hide behind artificial disguises,   I want to lay my spirit to rest inside a grey place, Where women can be wanton without disgrace, Where I can horde the gems and count the silver, Without the slightest slither of regret, A land where I can be respected as a dark poet, Who composes his pieces, Beneath a firmament of shivering twilight, Does not the artist retain the right, To sculpt his creations into the form of the macabre? Since birth I have done well, At craf