The End of the Past

Dance to the winds of desolation

And create turbulence

In the pathways of the rulers


Don’t be afraid to break their reign

They dig graves for everyone

Of ashes burnt from conviction


Don’t you ever believe in a memory

The past is made to torture

Its creation praised too often


But that’s why the rulers rule

To break down our sweet minds

Sleeping in our beds


Their lies a deck of cards

Or chess pieces turned cold

Predators to the future


Don’t you ever repeat their image

The bridge will be snapped

And emotion will pour outward


Don’t be afraid to break their reign

They bury gold under cold headstones

The end of the past will come


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