Count Your Blessings

For a... "friend."

In a fit of rage, they've denounced the piper
Of this pointless tune that they’ve
Had the distaste of foolishly dancing to

The song of a siren, masked under laughter
A beautiful dance, disgusting and shrewd
In a trace, they’ve become the unwilling captor;
Wading under water, eyes bloated and blue

They've killed a good thing,
But to whose perception, it would seem
A glass casket, waxed elegantly for
Gleam

But the barrier’s been shattered;
No longer shall they be easily flattered,
A desperate attempt of last fate;
Boating alone, a cumbersome mistake

So as far as name calling goes,
They'll just stare at their toes,
A look of disappointment on their face;
Heads filled with thoughts of false grace