Trite Pretention
I'll sing to you of love divine
Of spirits, hearts, and twisted minds
Thirst for power, lack of time
Dared to love each other
But, within their blind ambition
There's little room for the position
Of love, expect the false rendition
Of satience in another
Ah, they loved themselves too much
And so disdained their souls, as such
And used love as a foolish crutch
For power, and damn the rest
So, when you find your perfect match
Abandon ambition, pursue, and catch
Perhaps there's a chance that love with scratch
The stony heart in your chest