DEATH TO THE KING

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A dove, wings broken, cut, stolen, sewn together, bent.
This braided tale, this flaxen thread, this noose around my neck.

These raindrops bleed from clouds above to clean the filth, again.

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I saw him in a light that made him king.

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The building blocks were ticking clocks, the token pet, safe bet.

It felt like home, your smile, your tone, the way we were in bed.

Breathless moments hang, desperate, lies, betrayal, regret.
I helped you tie it, tight, just right, ignored my fear to tread.

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I saw him in a light that made him king.

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Pitting self, against ones self, this battle has me bled.
The truth revealed the onion peeled to show the core was dead.

I want to learn to let you go, feel free, believe again.

Running, screaming, crying want, please leave my fucking head

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I saw him in a light that made him king.