I’ve seen old bits of dragon’s gold; they lie in your liar’s lair. And although your neck and hands are dressed, you are still so sadly bare. I have watched your gold turn into glass; the rust reflects my lust. And although I smile as I dance, my heart degrades to dust. I have felt that glass shred soft skin; the blood so red and thin. And although my head is held up high, I am one cast down within. I have felt the pain of a thousand dead; it just can’t leave my head. And although I face the physical, it’s more of what you said. It’ll never be the same, she claimed; I can’t be what she needs. And although I try so hard for her, she’d rather watch me bleed.