Camarilla

What is gained in saying I am that, I've done this

When life is luck of the draw then a battle of wits

More useless to me than a motto is a creed

'Cause this vain imposition is a loaded decision

Hiding in it's vision a treacherous seed

The situation is president

No hero to raise

No villain to defeat

There is only the end you effect

Only the elements to override me

How do you contain a spirit then

With no eyes or ears

How could you please your case

No threat of death to subdue it with

No clock to abide

No body to sustain

She carries

A heart of sand

Her words

Are the surge

Of the ocean