With my lion teeth I will tear skin from body to make the canvas on which I will paint eternity
With all the hope I can afford I will make mothers pray for a light in their broken daughter's skies
I will not be consumed as a liar, my truth is far to great for either man or deity to understand.
What do you know of mercy?
I've been here for a hundred years and I'm still tortured
My scars can't heal before they're yet ripped gaping again.
And I'll feed the lords to the wolves for their unkept promises that they place upon mortal men.
My grief shall make a wonderful pyre to place your roses upon
Before we set them ablaze and send them to the sea.
My hands will mold death and desire into the hearts of nations
Who waste time singing nothing but cowardice songs
What do you know of me?
Nothing but what I've told you.
Claim that your truth is otherwise
And fake shall be your name.
I shall shroud in mystery myself
And the very essence of my existence.
So much easier that way,
To make Kings bow at your feet.