Through hidden layers and blackened tongues storming at the silver ringed gates...
You just had to do it.
Ye, whose words spat the most delicate weavings, masterfully poured into my sound pavillion,
Songs of "do" and "don't" in glistening harmony, and through that web of perfect chants... Prosperity at it's best, traded for a lick at the Devil's heart.
You really had to do it.
Does my tongue evoke such monsters? Or do the monsters secretly overcome our holy Kingdom? Does night fall all that easily for the minds of faithless men, lulled by the sweet drops of satin debochery as the unwary fisherman is wooed by the Siren's voice? Clouded MY voice, temptation lurks in walls of glistening oozing marble, stripped of it's glorious banners.
So here I stand and ponder the whys of you doing it, considering the stormed holy Kingdom being ruled by fiends in my absence and the choices there taken, my mind ravaged by the thought that maybe, in a faint dumbstruck theory, I should just let Hell breach my walls and take whatever they may... And maybe I am not fit to rule in war.
Alas disappointment is a bitch.
And you really had to do it...
