They, the Tyrants

Divine paranoia
A voice far away
A lingering fear reappears to confirm this decay

A blessed disease
Of royal decree
A shadow is cast
The hungry must fast

Pray for the power
That cripples divine
Prepare for the feast and the beast of the coming decline

We are enthroned
Descendant from the ancient blood

Enslaved - We wait
With baited breath
Divine - We writhe
In lovely death

Bathe in the ruins
A circle of rust
Bow down to the statues that wither and crumble to dust

A dreadful disdain
A siren's refrain
Falls on deaf ears
A hundred more years