Black box recorders

I draw a line in this sand
The heavens open
Washing away her plans
The castles she would  build out of sand

The stones she throws in her glass house
The girl who cried wolf
Who was chased from these green and pleasant
lands

The wind howls to night
The gods scream and fight
And might turn up knocking on that door
But there will be no answer anymore.

I washed away all my sins
Throw away her none
Precious things
A ring so bright and red
Forged in the earth

Her Mirrors cracked again
My ripped to tattered shreds
A new emperor can be found
To walk these lands as I leave
For hills the forests call me now

The wind howls to night
The gods scream and shout
And might turn up knocking on that door
But there will be no answer anymore.

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