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Shane Rowe Nov 2018
Break your own bones to look the part
Your words are poison to your own soul
Lies are tied loose at the end
So you can untangle them all over again

Manipulate those with strings
Put ones on those who disobey the queen
A sly little devil sat with a crown
A makeshift castle made with a frown

Throne made of eggshells painted in gold
The stench of her pride plague the halls
Oh how daring you are, a threat with no promise
Your sword and men may break on a moments notice

Deny you may of the weight of your weakness
We see the cracks, the glass breaking beneath it
So, for now, I bow to the ruler of all
Who'll fall on her own sword with no one to call
My anger wrote these words.

— The End —