I used to rule the world.
Seas would rise when I gave the word.
I used to control everything in my life and the lives of those around me. I could bend metal and control the world with a wave of my hand. I took it for granted then. If I ever get my powers back I'll never take anything for granted again.
Now in the morning I sleep alone.
Sweep the streets I used to own.
I don't socialize. I just sit in the park over my chess board across from a permanently empty seat. I walk streets I once would have flown down. I watch humans as they go about their lives. They don't even recognize me anymore.
I used to roll the dice.
Feel the fear in my enemies' eyes.
I miss the power that I had; the security that nothing could stop me. If I met any of my enemies now they wouldn't even bother with me. Their fear has been replaced by scathing looks and piteous eyes.
Listen as the crowd would sing:
"Now the old king is dead. Long live the king."
After I was defeated people sang in the streets. Every human knew how close they had come to destruction.
One minute I held the key.
Next the walls were closed on me.
The X-Men will pay for what they've done to me. Charles would never have let them, do it if he' been alive. He would have said it wasn't right and I would have won. But instead the traitors stabbed me with the 'cure' and everything just stopped. So really I created my own downfall. If I had never gone to the house, never gotten in Charles' way as I has asked him not to he wouldn't have been killed. He swore he would always be there. But he won't live to see the hope I bring to the world.
And I discovered that my castles stand
Upon pillars of salt, pillars of sand.
All that was keeping me up was my power. Before I'd believed that even if I'd been born human I would still be doing this. But without the power I ran. A part of me still believes that I'm strong enough to overcome this and continue to fight for my brothers and sisters as a weakened being.
I… hope that it's me.
ME.
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing.
Roman cavalry quires are singing.
I haven't had to live like a human for so long. I can't adjust to it. My life was never normal. I didn't have a safe and warm childhood. I had to use my powers to survive when I was young.
Be my mirror, my sword and shield.
My missionaries in a foreign field.
When I first started to build the brotherhood Mystique was one of my first soldiers. She was the strongest mutant I had ever seen. She immediately became my right hand. She was always there; through everything.
For some reason I can't explain.
Once you go there was never.
Never an honest word.
And that was when I ruled the world.
She was the only one that would speak out against me to my face. The only one that would make herself heard if she didn't think my plan was good enough. When she went I missed that. Maybe with her there we would have succeeded. Because with the fight I held all the responsibility. Pyro was no substitute for Mystique. He feared me and she didn't. That's a big difference.
It was the wicked and wild wind.
Blew down the doors to let me in.
In Germany, long ago, when I was thrown into a concentration camp, I knew nothing of the powers I had already shown. It was only when they started killing us that it was unleashed again.
Shattered windows and the sound of drums.
People couldn't believe what I'd become.
I stopped the soldiers. I ripped them apart. I saved my fellows. But they were scared of me. They weren't thankful. They thought I was one of them.
Revolutionaries wait
For my head on a silver plate.
As I stood opposite from the humans and the traitors on the final battleground I was so sure I would win; so sure that, finally, everything would pay off. I'd been fighting for freedom my whole life. In that moment before the slaughter began I'd at last thought I'd found it.
Just a puppet on a lonely string.
Oh, who would ever want to be king?
It was a dream. But who would want to lead an army when the people you're fighting against are anything but honorable?
I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing.
Roman cavalry quires are singing.
When the needles go into me it's as if time stops. I wonder if this was what it was like for Mystique. All I can hear is music and all I can see is Wolverine's face as I desperately try to keep him in the air.
Be my mirror, my sword and shield.
My missionaries in a foreign field.
"I'm..."
"One of them."
For some reason I can't explain.
I know Saint Peter will call my name.
Never an honest word.
But that was when I ruled the world.
I don't know why but I know it doesn't end here. It can't. As I sit at my lonely chessboard I can almost taste the fact that this isn't finished. I know.
Hear Jerusalem bells are ringing.
Roman cavalry quires are singing.
Be my mirror, my sword and shield.
My missionaries in a foreign field.
I wish for Mystique by my side more than ever. I wonder: if she hadn't seen the little red light on my back and got in the way, would she have stayed with me? Almost undoubtedly.
For some reason I can't explain.
I know Saint Peter will call my name.
Never an honest word.
But that was when I ruled the world.
I can't merely stop now I decide. If I just give up then I'm no better than the homo-sapiens. Until the mutants have won their freedom no one's going to give it to us.
US.
I raise my hand to the King chess piece. I will it to move with all my might. I imagine I can feel the power flowing through my fingers. I think of the King piece being crushed into dust.
I dream of Magneto.
And the chess piece moves.
ME.