to the tides that clash beneath your iron castle of glory
how is it your sword has cut its way through steel
like gold shifting under ivory
Your father lurks in the shadows of the corridor
to the red rimmed eyes under your spectacled gaze
i hear him goading you to pull me closer
to end my life once again
I am but a servant to her King
A mistress of ill to her saviour
so have your way with me, drink me dry
I am wine not to be forgotten
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