The Singer for the Red King

When you listen to a moving love song,
It slashes through our hearts and makes them bleed.
It is clearly what the singer wanted:
She knew how it feels in thought and in deed.

Tomorrows are never applicable
Where all silly little hearts are concerned;
We remember all the pain and sadness,
Who remembers a single lesson learned?

Here we go again sauntering to love,
As if he was not the demonic sire,
Who begat, on hope, all misery
And sits on his throne of red, with his crown of fire.

Take us, take us to the kingdom of thorns,
Where red roses grow on just the outskirt.
We don’t remember the lakes of tears,
Besides the twisted roads of rage and hurt.

The entry is free, unmanned are the gates,
But just then, try and find a way out…
Oh, clever is the king, smelling like faith,
We enter within, but can’t exit out.

The singer knows this to be true of all –
She wants her agenda like the Red King!
We are no match for this team – none at all!
We come full circle while we hear her sing.


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