Be her, my bane, uncleansed and forgotten. Exhaustion undying as broken hands build fortresses, to keep tyrants at bay. She stormed me like a plague, with no protection from her deceit. With no heart, nor the strength to fight I now rest my head at tyrants' feet.
Impure and ghastly. I have found no warmth in the perils of love. Misanthropic and content. I have buried all that I once was. Be this the bitter end.
She stormed me like a plague, with no protection from her deceit. With no heart, nor the strength to fight, I now rest my head at her feet. Exhaustion undying, broken hands build thrones of kings to seat my goddess, my queen.
I have out lived the ghost I was, my bitterness, your bitterness.
