The king

Can you kneel in his presence
Swallow your pride and humble yourself
This kingdom
Utter disarray
Torn asunder by grief and malaise
A castle built on pain and pride
A house with ghost filled walls
Cold
Bitter
An everest of avarice
Clenched fists and bruised ego
A veil of unrequited affection
A hallow bastion
Of all good intentions
He sleeps
Dreams a plague
Waking a subtle song
Yearning to be heard
A murder of crows
Drawn out over a bleak tempest
Unfortunate
Dismal utterances
A sky lit crimson
Ever testing the litmus
A ph balanced by sheer distance