Descent I

...*sigh* UPON MY THRONE, I HEAR THEIR GROANS AS I SIT...GRIPPING...KNUCKLES WHITE AS BONE THEY BEAT THEIR FISTS, AT GODS WHO HAVE LEFT THEM COLD MY HEAT IS WEAK, THOUGH I BURN WITH AN EXPRESSIVE GLOW TREACHERY. I SMELL IT JEALOUSY REIGNS SUPREME IT SEEMS AMONG THE GODS DEVILISH SCHEMES SPROUTING WINGS I WILL CRUSH LIMB FROM LIMB: TEAR TO PIECE- S, MY MOTHER'S DEATH WILL NOT FADE AS LONG AS HER SON LIVES ON- FATE IS AN EXCUSE ONE I REFUSE IT WILL BE BENT...I WILL DESCEND X 3 *Applause*