King of Saints

Everything is relative,

at least that’s what you say,

but I can smell it on your breath,

that intoxicating burn of pain.

If you only knew what I can do for you,

inside me-it’s innate,

to build a castle around your heart

and keep guard with my own veins.

I want to take you

I want to make you

feel like the king of saints,

or if it’s all just relative-

the ashes of all that’s done in vain. 

-AMS