#125 

Wretched Soul 

Diminishing territory upon a shallow cotton pillow 
A fathomless servant glides like a serpent 
Waves crest along the very fringe of the hollow 
Budging without confession, as pilgrims represent 

On a solemn Sunday, it shall be executed 
An erring chairman betrays the laws of nature 
The ominous valley of truth hangs deep with the folk 
As the monarch guillotines the girl with a sacred soul 

We pray for the lowest cost of this metaphor 
Which belongs to no one, yet holds their very lives 
The appeased crowd yearns for the end of this morning 
A bucket of pride, while they sing for the king 

Drowned by death, no more gilded spoons for him 
They drag the queen from her shelter, yet she stands noble 
Into this depth, no more counting stars in the sky 
A throng emulates her raw shriek into a bucket of justice 

The witch enchants her opera while the souls linger 
The ruthless slaughter ends in song, and a new era of wisdom 
 - dc official App