lordragnar

A thousand fair thiefs all steal at your heart Those poets of movement and creators of art The high-volume pimps who hustle romance Splashing the streets with color and dance The blast of horns, great flags unfurled They offer lush gardens in glistening worlds Yes, bearers of torches and carvers of stone Who whisper their lies and surrender their thrones And there in your room, no shadow is cast No lingering voices, no demons from the past Just a cluster of bones, and a window of flood Collecting the heartache like droplets of blood Still I stand before you, with eyes to the sky No coin in my pocket, no dagger at my sid