Staring down at the man, was a king well loved
Vulnerability, inconsistency are lord to him now,
Raped by his interpretations of the psychotic's world
Consumed by dispassion and chewing the bait so simply laid out.
In the realm of the dreamer, a cry for victory, power increasing,
Preying on the weak slowly makes strength.
Distorted grandeur she holds sacred,
All the glory of hell be hers, in self proclaimed evil,
If such misery is wished, i will comply.
Seduce my soul, take me to your life,
I want to know your ways,
My lust grows for you my dark angel.
The single rose cannot love,
But the allure of morn forces her to try,
The bud opens its soul and come mid-day
The sun is bright and scorching,
Fraying and withering the rose,
Forcing the inner rot to show to all,
The sun sets, leaving the spent flower
Only the comfort of darkness.
Distorted grandeur she holds sacred,
All the glory of hell be hers, in self proclaimed evil,
If such misery is wished, i will comply.
My soul was tested by the fire,
And followed the few to survive,
Now i know your ways and your twisted, pitiful life,
And for this dark angel, only my lust remains