To Crooked Kings

Down with the demons and all of their hurt,
This is a place you won’t let the world convert.

Too much is never enough.
Spinning to embellish trust.
Hail to the crooked kings.
Down on the upside is not much of anything.

Down in the grime where little does wait,
Pretty face mounted upon an endless fake.

Too much is never enough.
Spinning to embellish trust.
Hail to the crooked kings.
Down on the upside is not much of anything.

But still you crow and damn the skies.
Weave your tapestry crammed to bursting with surprise.
Heralded by the victims in their grave.
Through the portal these tomes you raise.
Packing exile as of it is meant to be master.
Prey to deities that you are the last here.
Derided masses with blind staring eyes.
A universe starved to sustain your guise.

Too much is never enough.
Spinning to embellish trust.
Hail to the crooked kings.
Down on the upside is not much of anything.

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