The places

The lullaby is old enough to collect dust on its notes

Hearing the haunting melody hurts, like a small sting

Of the creature you’ve loved to taunt during the travel

We took to erase the place we were forced to call home.

 

The memory has been waiting to snarl and freely roam

Wickedly sharp pieces of the core that hesitates to unravel

The origins of the marred but divine bloodline. Foolish King!

To think that he could save his children by cutting throats.

 

Unspeakable! Those deeds preformed in a haze of dutifulness,

No lovers to take or hearts to caress for eternity! Alone. Cursed

To search for one wretched being who left the truth behind,

Never truly grasping the depth of devotion as a naive child.

 

After plenty worlds had burned and rebirthed the agony is mild

The disease is spreading poisoning the eternally shining mind

And even though the problem is acknowledged the searing thirst

Is impossible to quench with mortal world and its bountifulness.

 

The places that we are hailing from will wreck from within

I miss your lips and liquid fire greedily marking my pale skin.

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