The Betrayer
You are the traitor, cloaked in grace,
The shadow with a smiling face.
You wore our trust like stolen skin—
Then let the blinding rot begin.
The blood that stains these shattered lands
Was summoned by your greedy hands.
Not wrath, nor fate, nor time's decay—
It was your will that led the way.
Your perversions, dressed in silk and gold,
Consumed the weak, betrayed the bold.
You dangled hope on poisoned thread,
And laughed as every dream lay dead.
We called you kin—you answered, "Mine,"
Then drank our faith like bitter wine.
You carved your name into our bones
And built a throne from hollow moans.
Destruction followed where you tread,
A song of ash, a march of dread.
And still your hunger would not cease,
You shattered oaths in search of peace.
But peace was never what you sought—
Just power, twisted into thought.
You lit the match, you fed the flame,
And wrapped it in a righteous name.
No penance paid, no cleansing fire
Could purge your soul of dark desire.
Forgiveness flees your very breath—
You walk with ghosts and sleep with death.
So know this truth, and know it well:
You did not fall—you chose to dwell.
In depths where even monsters drown—
You built your throne, now wear your crown.
Copyright © Mori Moots | Year Posted 2025
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