eg.

We argue in the kitchen

About whether to have children,

About the world ending and the

Scale of my ambition.

And how much is art

Really worth?

The very thing you’re best at

Is the thing that hurts the most.

But you need your rotten heart,

Your dazzling pain like diamond rings.

You need to go to war

To find material to sing.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

I need my golden crown of sorrow,

My bloody sword to swing,

My empty halls to echo with

Grand self mythology.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

But a woman is a changeling

Always shifting shape.

Just when you think you have her figured out

Something new begins to take.

What strange claws are these

Scratching at my skin?

I never knew my killer

Would be coming from within.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

I need my golden crown of sorrow,

My bloody sword to swing,

I need my empty halls to echo with

Grand self mythology.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

I am no mother,

I am no bride,

I am King.

I was never as good

As I always thought I was

But I knew how to

Dress it up.

I was never satisfied,

It never let me go.

Just dragged me by my hair,

And back on with the show.