Your Mighty... ljóð frá 26. marz 2023.

Look this place where loafers roam about,

locked up where the status calls you rich.

Not so very many make you right,

more than yesterday for low down bitch.

Sometimes we are worthless in a crowd,

windbags scared and acting like the sheep.

Your mighty, famous, killing creep,

king of tattoos, devils like that make you slaves just fight!

If my love is lowered, understand,

like the gods will no more show the band...

 

Can you judge them? - Care for mirror dear?

Confidence you gave me young and sweet.

Later as a feminist you failed -

faults and you ran, what a coward's deed!

Nothing's changed, you're no one, just the fear,

needed you, and lovers act so blind.

Thought you were so queenly, kind,

came the time when I saw how you only grabbed them, railed.

Angry maybe, all the same I miss,

all the times we had, and such a kiss...

 

She's not perfect, but so much i bear...

be this year a proof of how I'm good...

I can take it, all you say is wrong,

even though so cruel I maybe should...

Something proper devils dearly wear,

descry truths to use and throw away,

How could I then have that day?

hurting, taking, using, judging, ruling, never strong...

Little girl I loved your weakness, wait,

we could maybe stand and find the gate...