Work Text:
You sometimes think his thoughts
he can imagine all the plausible dangers hidden
in this forsaken city's night
in the evening of his soul
except
that the grand plans had been dealt
long before he knew how to topple empires
with the flick of his wrist
with a flash of steel
except
the architecture of your soul is all wrong
too much shadow for the robins to sing in
and he built himself your way
no light, no light for any song
he didn't know that
yet
he just wanted skyscrapers
and towers to conquer the skies he was promised to
(and dungeons and labyrinths to cage all his demons)
you wanted dismantle the heights he had reached
because what if
he had incurred the wrath of the gods
become a child to be struck down
to his very bones
to the foundations of his being
what would have been left of him?
maybe you were wrong
you are calloused from building and breaking
for the altar on which you laid your life upon
night after night
he was still learning
piecing together a vision of himself in the world
reconstructing the word of his gods
to a belief stronger steel
so that his heart could carry
the cities he would build
and his bones could be holy enough for the crown
with he would rule with his own two hands
maybe when the lightning struck
everything he was
he is
he would have been
was illuminated
maybe the robins will sing
in the hallowed halls of his soul