"The King"

The poor little King
Was broken and scared
Lying about
The way he fared

His body shook
With painful tears
As he lived out
The Hollow years

His memories broke
With each scream
His spirit tore
With each fake dream

Illusions are nothing more
Then reflections of you
But the King was something
Seemingly less then new

The King was a puppet
Hollow inside
Being controlled
But trying to hide

Concealing the hatred
Of those around him
The King lied with a
Smile to them

And little by little
The King continued to break
His poor little body
Continued to shake

And all the King's horses
And all the King's men
Couldn't put the King
Back together again