I played my card, a somber Queen of Swords,
Rewriting an oblique and musty page.
What is it like to live without my words
That fueled your insanity and rage?
What is it like to crave the land of elves
When doors are closed with non-existent locks,
To think of me who's kissing someone else,
When nothing's left to fight, to curse, or mock?
The point of no return and no retreat
Is reached when brighter flames transcend the loss.
I am content, the silence is complete.
And you are free to live without my words.