Corrupted

This old man that sits on his throne,
His blank eyes share no more wisdom,
Like a figure turned into stone,
He no longer rules his kingdom.

His mind attached to vibrant strings,
The puppeteer of the king,
Pushes and pulls and takes and brings,
The king is blind, he cannot see.

Imprisoned by the filthy worm,
And the corruption gives him form,
Contained into a separate world,
He lives his life without control.

To speak a word in someone’s name,
Your kingdom falls but you restrain
Your thoughts into a sordid game,
Replacing your honor with shame.

What spell brings clouds inside your head?
What storm brings rain atop your land?
Who’s stopping you to move your hand?
Who took your place and leads instead?