There was blood on your hand when you reached out to me, and when you turned your palm down your other hand was on my leash. The lizard tongue caresses and speaks soft lies. It loves the taste of allegiance, and the martyrs seeking glory in nothingness. I wish I could be so naïve. I wish I could be so tone deaf. I can't seem to pull my head out of the dirt. I'll never worship the crown of shit. I'll never wear the robes of filth while your itchy trigger finger is on the pulse of the brink. The kings have returned to fail once again. This time there won't be a next time. No fucking sympathy, no second chance. Behind closed doors is where the vermin go to congregate. Dead set on blind hate. Behind closed doors, the plague has broken through the skin. So this is how it begins.... Pathetic. The sun came beating down and the rats all ran for the shade. The disease had spread in the darkness until the structure decayed. Sickness grows stronger in numbers. Death cannot come soon enough. What if we were always wrong? We can never go back. Never speak ill of your master.