The Emperor (From My Secret Sin)

His blade is rusted, but bloody His boots are muddy But his thoughts are toxic A soldier’s raft is ready, so he docks it The battle field has went silent The fragrance of armpits and crumbled faces gone violent One steel blade To any throat is easy to persuade Down to the marsh lands he prepares to invade Rule the empire until it’s his time to retire Puts his hands together to raise the spirits higher From his brain, he images one mans pain Pressure points, one finger to his head Takes time and gives respect to the dead Holds his chin high He knows, for one day, he to must die Through the pupils of his eyes He sees the world to conquer Breathes heavily For one lung is already punctured One mind corrupt One mountain ready to erupt Electricity seeps from his palms Looks at the sky Wondering when the storm will calm Thoughts of one death alone No other face to be shown One shining shield A handful of arrows that say yield One man on one bending knee One soul for one high fee One beggar one plea Sticks and rocks Cold chills, rats, and rusted locks