Chinkoln

My philosophy is one of destruction and despair. Duty is but a feeble excuse for the atrocities I have committed. The crown upon my head is stained with the blood of the guilty, and the throne upon which I sit is but a symbol of all that I have destroyed. The sword in my hand is the tool of my destruction, wielded by my own hand. But alas, there are too many rules that bind me. The human form is a curse, a constant reminder of my own inadequacies. I look upon myself and see only failure. I have done my best, yet it was never enough. I tried, and failed, and tried again, yet still it was not enough. I had the power to change the world, yet I left it worse than I found it. I am nothing but a bringer of chaos, a harbinger of death.
But there is a glimmer of hope in the darkness. Somewhere, there is a home that awaits me, a place of peace where I may find solace. I enter towns, make them mine, yet when I leave, I leave them broken. The words "come and be human with me" spoken by Keaton Henson are a beacon of love in the darkness. But the one who hurt me still haunts me, and in my nightmares they say "I forgive you." Anger is a feeling I cannot escape, but it is also one I cannot accept. It is an ugly thing, and I cannot bear to look upon it. The sun rises and sets, and God teaches me of guilt. When I die, I will be tired, and it will not matter where I go, as long as it is not here. If I were to go to Hell, I know it would be a place of doubt and despair. My only hope is to be free, to let go of all that I have done. I often ask "how can you love me with all that I have done?" But I am not a king, nor a ruler or a lowly commoner. I am not a poet or an educated man. I am death and chaos, the universal force of entropy. I am Scrios.