There's a throne made of gold in heaven,
And I've gazed upon its intricate details many times before,
It's set in glass and is beautiful in its regal authority,
Demanding the stares of all those divine,
I wish to sit upon that throne one day,
Worshipped by angels and holy beings,
Like a God among mortals in a palace immaculate,
And forbidden to the sinners who'd idolize me,
But the deities of the world know the price,
Of playing God in a peaceful sanctuary,
They know the weight of the pillars,
That hold heaven above the clouds,
There's a throne made of gold in heaven,
And it's appeal has gotten all too intense,
I hear it call my name several times a day,
And I don't have it in me to stay far away,
The grandeur of it all pulls me in,
And I cannot escape the luxury it foretells,
Nor the feeling it cements in my heart,
A life only the pure can endure,
The goodness of heaven is tempting,
But my greed is a vice reserved for hell,
And I love the sound of the harps that play,
But my ears do not deserve such harmony,
There's a throne made of gold in heaven,
And its beauty has pushed me to the edge,
I claim it as mine to keep eternally,
But I know such action is a sin,
I am not virtuous enough for the throne,
My mind is too tainted; my heart is too numb,
And my intentions are too dark for this place,
I was not made for heaven,
I've strayed too close to the sun,
My spirit may be innocent and pure,
But I am encased in the flesh of humanity,
I do not deserve the golden throne that calls for me,
I am not God,
I am me.
