In robes of gold, a figure stands,
A mystery wrapped in sunlit strands.
The man in yellow, mask aglow,
His secrets hidden, none can know.

Is he a god of ancient lore,
Or demon from a distant shore?
Perhaps a king, a ruler wise,
Or nothing but a mere disguise.

Father of demons, so they say,
In shadows, he will always sway.
The Elbero family, his own kin,
Bound by ties that lie within.

His smile, a mask, so finely worn,
Conceals the truths that are forlorn.
In yellow hues, he finds his might,
