March of a Devil Survivor: Act 3: Fall of the Millennial Kingdom

Weaving wicked tales atop this mountain The Kingdom has reached its peak Black box warfare once again leads us to ruin Turning the golden sun bleak Cleansing yourself of filth While I drenched myself in Spring's sweat Desolation came upon us When fist meets nose, it leaves my skin wet Laying wrapped in cloth in the hospital With a heart full of lead The doctor held my hands And made me promise I wouldn't end up dead The fall of the Kingdom Millennia aflame A land of broken glass and steel And who should the subjects blame? Crafting forts and walls to protect me High above the new land The queen returned to rule again, and I let her in To make one final stand Nothing changed at all Still a broken mess passing ourselves as Gods Devastation ruled upon me As my new Kingdom ended up as another loss Another fall from me The castle lays in dust A land of constant rain and clouds As all swords and shields begin to rust Marching to the beat of my broken heart This former king returns To the land he once cursed as a broken town Only fit to burn Shedding robes and jewels The once-king settles into routine Learning how to breathe again Without a kingdom or abusive Queen Marching once again Shedding guilt and doubt To form identity, once lost And from this wicked cell, get out