He stood atop his golden stage and screamed to those below.
The people bowed and praised his form but it was all a show.
He demanded their affection, and basked in every prayer,
But underneath the singing praise, none of them could care.
He wanted more to love him; he demanded every heart,
But his pursuit to claim them soon tore them all apart.
He bent his head in grief when he realized what he did,
So he ran, and into his own tarnished soul, he hid.
She slipped into his darkened ghost like sunlight in a storm,
And wrapped herself around his chilled and woeful form.
A kiss upon his forehead brought peace into his mind,
Though he always knew her, he understood that he’d been blind.
Eons spent between them he had made her stay away,
Her kind and gentle nature never fit in with his play.
She came to him when things were bleak and in her arms he cried,
The balance needed to exist; she was Humility, he was Pride.