You just don't see the use in

living by the rules

because after all, recall

the thoughtless world we walk was made for you



What's more, what more

could be adored

than a renegade with a pretty face?

Get your fill, because it might be too late



when the sound of blaring horns rips through

your candlelit bedroom

and you avert your gaze from a stygian face

that stamps cloven hooves

whose voice alone could break your bones

He binds his wrists to yours

and maneuvers you with an eldritch wit

soon to which you'll be sold



You've mastered every common-minded

fool you know

because after all, we're all just

pliant phantoms, soulless skin and bones



But you've read every book,

turned every page

followed the lion-faced flying snake

down a lightless tunnel, just to lose your way



when the sound of blaring horns rips through

your candlelit bedroom

and you avert your gaze from a stygian face

that stamps cloven hooves

whose voice alone could break your bones

He binds his wrists to yours

and maneuvers you with an eldritch wit

soon to which you'll be sold



That great magnate

you imitate

is turning in his grave





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