The King
His land.
His wasteland.
From hope's ashes to the corpses of his enemies.
"Is there still a place that it doesn't belongs to him?"
Blame's cape over his shoulders, crown of lies besides him.
There's nobody around, nobody to celebrate his "amazing" achievement.
Just ashes, skeletons, lifeless red ground and a cloudless orange sky.
Alone with his pitiful self, he feels hungry for power more and more of it.
An internal desire for enjoy, to destroy.
The King needs something new the old toys are boring.
Like a black hole, he's drying life and light from this planet.
His smoke, his abuse over others, his joy by destroying the beauty.
Do you want to know the King?
Really?
You only need to use a mirror.
There, you will find the King.
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Corrections · 1
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The King
His land.His wasteland.
From hope's ashes to the corpses of his enemies.
"Is there still a place that it doesn't not (doesn't is correct but feels too informal for the subject) belongs to him?"
Blame's cape over his shoulders, crown of lies besides him.
There's nobody is no one around him, nobody no one to celebrate his "amazing" achievement.
Just ashes, skeletons, lifeless red ground and a cloudless orange sky.
Alone with his pitiful self, he feels hungry for power. More and more of it.
An internal desire for to enjoy, to destroy.
The King needs something new; the old toys are boring.
Like a black hole, he's drying sucking life and light from this planet.
His smoke (I'm not sure what the word smoke refers to here. It should be replaced with something but I'm not sure what), his abuse over others, his joy comes by destroying the beauty.
Do you want to know the King?
Really?
You only need to use a mirror.
There, you will find the King.
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