Appetite Of A Soul

Cradled in innocent fairy tales
Misery makes impressions on her audience
Ever since ancient times it crowds the stages

Every dream broken like the hopes of yesterday
Victory seems sweet, when surrounded by defeat
No white flags when your enemy is within
Failure’s voice seems so paternal
Until you realize passion’s gift is eternal

Growing sick of this realm , so we build our own
No kings to serve only the appetite of a soul
The snakes of corruption grow in number
As the priests of honesty cower away silently

With broken dreams castle walls are built
Passion is ordained king and justly rules
Making darkness a slave and joy is his prince