Conquest of a Hero

To hide inside the fair of splendor
Words that cover hide the tremor
Harshness speaks
Complex satire
But truthful cane for her attention to pyre

She whistles promise to gather masses
To cover security of none that she passes
Distraction put forth
With nothing to show
For the conquest of a hero of his life down below

We ask ourselves of helpless design
The soul she seeks one of divine
Does it happen
To whom she wallows
As mindless group of our drive that we follow

Of eyes to wander and truth we seek
She reveals to us empty nothing but weak
Of beauty portrayed
Irritation I show
For the conquest of a hero of his life down below

Question ourselves on direction we take
To offer some good of the pain that she makes
Blood soak sheets
A quest to her soul
In the city she may be but never shall hold

As Byron she claims with no love in her head
A Gothic dream scape and a promise that’s dead
Will she ever respond
On the promise that shows
For the conquest of a hero of his life down below

If luster of lost and a person left to show
Would the beauty degrade and life of the blow
Its people she plays
Of one’s life she ploys
A garden of Eden of pain and lost joys

So I ask you my listener as it sits in the end
Will she even respond to the request that will mend
Provide the promise
The glory to show
For the conquest of a hero of his life down below

If this to you shows a weakness inside
Come and think again of my desire I hide
To touch your flesh
The smell of your skin
The whip I shall take and your body I shall win