Tragedies and malice
Are not all that’s found
Of sick minds and broken souls
That have no sound
Knights in shining armor have come to ****
Parade on flower eyes, so that I feel ill
I’m not the hero holding the sword
What really is the story
Perhaps I’m a villainess
That’s not even scary
So hang me up to dry
And ring me out
Because I’ll die once veils lift of my happy lie
One tragic ghost walking about