In the shadow of the stone, where whispers fill the air,

A throne of granite, a symbol of power’s rare.

But I’d rather be the one who harvests the fruit,

Than the one who plants the seed, with the soil so stout.

The darkness cradles secrets, the night’s eternal dance,

Where every candle flickers, in the heart of the trance.

Life and death, they circle like the moon and sun,

In the game of shadows, I’m the one who’s won.

I’ll stand on the stone, watch the world spin around,

With my crown of thorns, I’ll wear the crown I’ve found.

In the realm of darkness, where the light does not shine,

I’ll rule with an iron fist, in the game of life and crime.

The wind whispers tales of the past, the future’s uncertain,

But I’ll carve my legacy, in the cold stone of my heart.

Each step I take, in the shadow’s embrace,

Leads me closer to the throne, where I’ll face.

Through the storms of pride, through the tempests of greed,

I’ll keep my head high, in the darkest of need.

For in the end, it’s not about the throne,

But the power to shape the world, until the very bone.

I’ll stand on the stone, watch the world spin around,

With my crown of thorns, I’ll wear the crown I’ve found.

In the realm of darkness, where the light does not shine,

I’ll rule with an iron fist, in the game of life and mine.