You took from me
My saints and my kings
So long on a mind
So long ago

You took from me
My hedonistic dreams
So frail and already
So shattered

I looked at these
Crumbled pieces
Of desire and hunger
Left to powder

Touches of your essence
Pressed upon the
Filaments of reality and
Stitched on its silk

Spelt malice in the weavings
Cast asunder all goodwill
Taking the scarf in hand
Setting out to take revenge

And kill

Doomsday at hand for you
Your tombstone is carved
I will win this mental attrition
You will not survive

I sit now, beside
My bloodied blade
And the gusts of flesh famine
Have slowly gone away

A body bathed in powders, my
Crushed desires and dreams, of
Phantasm forces and integral
Moroseness taken to new gleam

Dripping with last licks
Of sinister thoughts and tricks
Wrapped now around me
I wear it ever so proudly

I will be, to remember you there
In hand: my righteous cruelty
Briefly suspending my vengeance,
To be fair,
And to give you a good eulogy

Then would I take the throne
As my own?
Claim a saintly title, that I may
Not have earned?

Vengeance and doomsday
Smiting thee with naught a thought
This seat is one I deserve
So yes, I shall sit
And bask in all ye I’ve taken

Hedonistic dreams overwritten
In the silk
Flow now from my ornate robes
As a warning
To those I might otherwise be killing

Published by Jake Thomas Shaw

Concerned with memory, currency, and destiny, I strive to capture each one as they happen. Join me and consume reality! Radio Reality. City!

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