Wrought

Hold me darling tight a thought creeps in at night
All I want is to stay yet it beckons me away
Oh with tales of great grandeur and such fraught ever-afters
What is real
What is not
What is this
That I've wrought
What is hope
For a misanthrope
What is this
That I've wrought
The sirens call echoes through the ramparts
The weaker men abandon their posts
I think back to an old self that you might've known
I shout out my my kingdom
That all in the fiefdom
Should remember the gifts
I bestow
Darling please just hold me tight
What is real
What is not
What is this
That I've wrought
What is hope
For a misanthrope
What is this
That I've wrought



Credits
Writer(s): Carl Parsley
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