The Foe Sublime

Feigned

The image of a world unfolds

Deluded, but divine

It sees us mocking gifted grace

A stolen self

Will not succumb

See your face in the mirror

It's your image on a face of another

See your principles

Constantly wither

What is this will but a riddle?

In splendor

We were born again

Renewed and whole,

A chance reborn

Sustenance

We've found

Yet we tear it from our minds

So find a way through these foes

With your tears

Scattered around the wound

It scares us not,

This path's design

Run these demons gone amok

Astray