all of the things (we should be)

Thousands lay bare at my feet.

I admire them as they begin to weep,

and their tears flood the streets.

A quiet hush seems to be the only thing constant.

My reign has seen worse days,

as they attempt to pray the bad away.

No one is coming to save you,

they've all been cast away.

No longer living,

because of the atrocities they've committed.

They all ask the same thing,

"do you regret it?"

...

no.