speak poet
your words are the prophesy
selling bad news to bad people
make them think it's honey
you witches and demiurges
who carve creation out of your own blood
rise with the whispers
that no one dares speak before the king
until your chorus shatters their windows
uproots their foundations
shakes the world
I promise you
you have power
sing up at the mighty
and hear them cry for mercy
-o0o-
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