in her name
I'm rotting
still rotting
half alive since the day I know
the illusory power of reality,
its trickery
and your broken mind.
Your power over me
and my codependency
with how rotten you and me are.
This heritage lasts
passed down
for generations.

Royals may die, but they find no peace,
And their pride still boils in their children.
Banging high, causing upheavals,
Then bringing them down
From lofty heights
Down to the gritty drains
of reality

Low lands is where I woke up
Handful of soil is what I got

You played,
you played me,
and now you're dead.
But you've played your cards.

And all that you did in the name of your love, the ideals,
and your love for ideals, is hysteria.

Now pass it down and around.