Your kind is ancient, your skill is an art
The belief of your existence
Is of which most have part
At the sight of dust, there's a smile on your face
For the darkness brings the urge for a particular taste
You lurk in the shadows,
Awaiting your next victim
This exotic taste is the fuel found within
You sit at his right hand
An feet or two, maybe three, no further
For he is ruler, king and also your father
His voice echoes through the walls of the covernant
With only a glance, he killed dozens of tyrant
The days are so beautiful,
Yet you are in dispare
For where the sun shines
You can never go near
A creature of perfection in every single way
Yet your beauty shines its radiance most at night than day
With skin so soft, the rays of light burns
And as is tradation,
To dust you'll turn
*La Vida Love