Sound.

Alpha male warriors succumb,
to the sound of raining metal.
His brother beside, silently hums,
"Look here, this wound's fatal"
To literate the agony, seems sinful.
Wrong.
Here is the Lizard King.
justifying it with a song.
Creations of anger, love, grief and joy.
See him swinging,
and shredding his toy.
Unspoken thoughts sung by his axe.
Vibrations of revolution,
created under swift cracks.
Noise! Love! Music!
Drown now. You're not empty anymore.
The songbird takes a poise,
and melody fills your soul.