The Conquering Enemy

Black and gold

Truth be told

Silver is lust

The rest can rust

Black is the enemy for a swollen power

It won’t fit between these shades

Of gold that you keep locked inside your tower

Slowly this silver starts to fade

It only makes sense for two, not three

Your happiness will come from that finery

Battle out your demons, along with theirs

You’re stronger without them beyond compare

The silver is collapsing, your tower is crumbling down

The shine upon that gold begins to disappear

There’s nothing you can do to save it now

There’s nothing left to fear