One last disguise. . Pawns standing in awe of the game. Of the stage, you've worked so hard at building an empire. Of secret rooms to display yourself.
These petals. This blackened rose. In a soil of my own. Shrouding your hallowed ground. Like seeds who'll never sow. Like forgery and larceny. And my ill-gained revelry.
Now here I lie in the streets. An invitation for you to steal a glance at me. While all the village, it gathers. To watch the vultures devour this decaying matter.
I'm just a stranger here, despite your everything. I'm not attached to your world of disease. Like Father always said and I can only agree. "Son they will hate you because they've always hated me.".