The swing of wisdom
Sways through my head
The gift can be called a blessing
Sometimes it feels like a curse
What do you call a man
Without faith but with hope
Gently he releases his sorrowful thought
What can he be thinking?
The throne is here with a lot of games
The shadow of death clouds the air
With fear and despair left alone to rule
Who can rule over a throne
No sit but presence is felt
Looking afar and searching
Knowing how all this will end
Makes me stand still
He who wants the throne must pay the price.
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