Oh his highest king
Tell me what is wrong with me
I seem to have such mournful taste
When it comes to you
You are the angrogony
That keeps my nerves quiet
As they shatter the asylum
You have built for yourself
Thirsty for power
In the dark qualms
Caught in a unknowing apoclolypse
Tell me that you crave my intimacy
A delicate sway
Prediments caused by the roaring river
Such power and strength
It is destined that you fall
Fall from grace
Sleep well with this poppy milk
Made from all the souls you take
Oh highest tyrant
Love me least.
That i can flourish
Under your
Unyielding pressure.

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