Perish

Perish | Poetry on Mooseymares

As you sit on the throne, oh your dear majesty, the true ruler watches you, the self-proclaimed king.

It is quite the show, a real circus.

He laughs at your poor choices and the lies that come from your mouth.

The throne slowly crumbles with each thing you destroy.

He who does not need to wear a crown brings light you have denied.

Perish.

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