Back and forth we run,
Pieces on this board of fun.
Yet not all can see
The beauty in this fragile futility.

This game, primarily run by fools,
Is devoid of common sense or rules.
And as pieces scatter,
Their impermanence an unspoken manner,
There's naught but mice,
Too afraid to roll the dice.

But here is an uncommon thought,
Just worry not.
Worry not of your impermanence,
Worry not of your ***** footprints,
Worry not of your suppressed shame,
Worry not of your trivial blame,
And think but this,
Why worry at all?

Just sit back and enjoy the game,
Create your own rules,
And worry not of the shame bestowed by fools.

I stalk you in the shadows,
Returning from my grave so shallow,
Your precious pride, I'll make you swallow.
Your bigotry knew no bounds,
And thus unbound my fury like the hounds.
In your shadow my eyes doth glow,
The plotting of your downfall they surely show.
You claim to know not,
The crimes unto me for which you will rot,
Yet through all your fear and tears,
My approach you shall not hear,
And that podium upon which you hold all your reverence,
Shall become the territory of your Revenants.

People often wonder,
How does a king ignore his followers,
Just sit by as they suffer.

Yet you don't know what he's known,
For you've never taken the throne.
How much is he shown?
From that place on his throne.

Does he choose to turn a blind eye?
Watching while others cry?
Or does something else lay claim to the apple of his eye?

But what is it that protects the king from ire,
Whilst his loyalties are under fire?

It is not commonly known,
That the king is only shown what his throne wants shown.

If you don't believe me then go ahead,
Take the throne,
Atop the previous monarch's head,
And have your vision overthrown.

It's just so serene,
The subtle sounds of the machine.
The light pitter-patter,
Removing all that ever mattered.
I sit in silence,
Entranced by this unnoticed violence,
The cause of my insanity,
And most definitely the source of my serenity.

Would you believe me if I told you I think I'm certifiably insane?
Probably, considering you've nothing to go by other than a name.
Do you even care?
Probably not, and considering I'm another person you've never met it's only fair.
But to those who do,
A piece of advice to you.
Whoever you think someone is,
That's who they really are.
But don't just take my word for this,
Because as I said before, I think my sanity it's pretty far...

You know, I've always wondered
What type of people read these?
Are you a person who is very kindred?
Or are you constantly weak in the knees?

Maybe I'm just talking to myself again,
This place just another of my fragile delusions.
Thinking here with no real gain,
Taking to inconceivable illusions.

The line to which every tyrant dies,
The saying to end all tyranny.
Yet it has not found every place tyranny lies,
Despite some places being quite... elementary.
People are constantly sent to schools,
While these schools are run by greedy fools.
And if you enter school to satisfy a need for learning,
You will certainly leave with a sense of yearning.
But few beg for the system to be changed.
Whilst those who do are deemed deranged.
Oppressed by a system that rewards based not on merit,
But on obedience.
The talks of change claimed to be out of the budget.
Left to blindly follow their credence.
Sic semper tyrannis.