On the wings of a fool,
can’t fly very high,
shouldn’t even try,
but still, I did.
Dreaming dreams
that should
have never
been dreamt,
yet still they be,
as I wait to see.
Holding you,
loving you,
trying to find,
my way,
to by your side stay,
but these things
keep getting
in our way.
Sad,
sorrowful,
wicked
things,
that at our throats
do ring,
extinguishing,
our hopes,
our dreams,
our chances,
as best they can.
I chase away,
with stick in hand,
across the land,
these demons,
divined by she,
evil wicked as she be.
To defile the love of angels,
with promises in hand,
so wonderful and grand,
priceless prizes for we.
Hell awaits,
devil at gate,
to give her
just reward,
this whore monger,
peddling her wares,
this provoker
of betrayal.
