I know the reason I'm here is of my own doing,
having been slayed and dragged here by the ghost of tomorrows past.
Held in a world that feels foreign yet all too familiar.
This dungeon reeks of consequence, evade is all I hear.
Yet I know that this can never come to pass!
for you're too heartless and unstable,
any form of submission will send you over the moon!
So I sit back in the dark, and try accepting but it's just too bitter to swallow.
Is this food or delusion? all I know is I crave more of it.
Dear Merlin my captor are you pleased with your handiwork?
Are you even there? if yes I'd love to get to meet you.
Dear Merlin, you sick *******
could you please just turn the lights back on!
Let me dream, let me breathe.
In your eyes I'm void of value but is it my fault for trying to please?
The figures around me keep their masks on,
mannequins that hold my joy up their sleeves!
Dear Merlin can I be blamed for yearning?
Am I to blame if my advances end up in flames?
Or we can play pretend and hope it counts as learning.
You never keep your end of the bargain, that's why I ended up in these frames.
My memories evade me like peace,
yet you torture me with my past.
How heartless could you possibly be?
Does the present fail to provide sufficient material?
I look back to the days when we used to coexist,
before you bought that binder-
before i gave you command,
now the power has poisoned you.
Where you should have suffered,
I'm left to gather the remnants of your outbursts.
I'm slowly dwindling Merlin.
I'm sure you expected more of a fight.
Broken from the insults you were hurling,
my shards can't even reflect the light like they used to,
they aren't sure if they're deserving-
or if peace is still a right.
Can' hold on much longer,
my wounds are now infested-
molested by a legion of consequence-
the acid rubs deep-
infected by a horde of overthinking,
they forced me to remove my bandaid,
accused me of feigning it all.
Gave you the baton-
the same baton identified as my ****** weapon.
When it's time for it to end , who will shout "cut!"?
You came and you conquered but your power is only a fragment of my hallucinations.
for you are just but,- a villain of my conjuring,
a fragment of my imagination!
Jan 23
Jan 23, 2026 at 2:39 AM UTC
I know the reason I'm here is of my own doing,
having been slayed and dragged here by the ghost of tomorrows past.
Held in a world that feels foreign yet all too familiar.
This dungeon reeks of consequence, evade is all I hear.
Yet I know that this can never come to pass!
for you're too heartless and unstable,
any form of submission will send you over the moon!
So I sit back in the dark, and try accepting but it's just too bitter to swallow.
Is this food or delusion? all I know is I crave more of it.
Dear Merlin my captor are you pleased with your handiwork?
Are you even there? if yes I'd love to get to meet you.
Dear Merlin, you sick *******
could you please just turn the lights back on!
Let me dream, let me breathe.
In your eyes I'm void of value but is it my fault for trying to please?
The figures around me keep their masks on,
mannequins that hold my joy up their sleeves!
Dear Merlin can I be blamed for yearning?
Am I to blame if my advances end up in flames?
Or we can play pretend and hope it counts as learning.
You never keep your end of the bargain, that's why I ended up in these frames.
My memories evade me like peace,
yet you torture me with my past.
How heartless could you possibly be?
Does the present fail to provide sufficient material?
I look back to the days when we used to coexist,
before you bought that binder-
before i gave you command,
now the power has poisoned you.
Where you should have suffered,
I'm left to gather the remnants of your outbursts.
I'm slowly dwindling Merlin.
I'm sure you expected more of a fight.
Broken from the insults you were hurling,
my shards can't even reflect the light like they used to,
they aren't sure if they're deserving-
or if peace is still a right.
Can' hold on much longer,
my wounds are now infested-
molested by a legion of consequence-
the acid rubs deep-
infected by a horde of overthinking,
they forced me to remove my bandaid,
accused me of feigning it all.
Gave you the baton-
the same baton identified as my ****** weapon.
When it's time for it to end , who will shout "cut!"?
You came and you conquered but your power is only a fragment of my hallucinations.
for you are just but,- a villain of my conjuring,
a fragment of my imagination!
My Hell Their Circus Track 7
