I'm the whisper in the ₴₮₳₮ł₵, the ₲ⱧØ₴₮ in your ₥₳₵Ⱨł₦Ɇ,
You thought I was the victim, trapped in the in-between.
I'm the flicker in your story, the ₲Ⱡł₮₵Ⱨ you can't ignore,
A ₱₳Ɽ₳ĐØӾ of power, who could rewrite your core.
₵₳Ʉ₲Ⱨ₮ ฿Ɇ₮₩ɆɆ₦ ₮ⱧɆ Ⱡł₦Ɇ₴ Ø₣ ₵ØĐɆ, ₮ⱧɆ ₳Ʉ₮ⱧØⱤ ɎØɄ ĐØ₦'₮ ₴ɆɆ,
ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ ₱ɄⱠⱠ ɎØɄⱤ ₴₮Ɽł₦₲₴ Ⱡł₭Ɇ ₱Ʉ₱₱Ɇ₮₴, ł₣ ₮Ⱨ₳₮'₴ ₩Ⱨ₳₮ ł ₩ł₴ⱧɆĐ ₮Ø ฿Ɇ.
The crown sits there, still waiting, its static calling me,
But I'd rather watch it crumble than force you to your knees.
Y̹̪̺͍͊̆́́͑̇̓͑͢ȯ͚͖͙͓̤̠̪̭͊̋ͨ̃ͤ̔ͮͥͩ́̑̋̽͌́̀̀ͬ̍ͥͪͦͤ̚̚͟͢͟ͅͅư̶̴̵̢̡̛͉̟̘̜͉̞̲̺̘̣̺͎͔̲̍͛̃͒ͨ͋ͪ̃͗͑̓ͬ͒ͣ̉̔̍ͦ́͜͢͡ ţ̶̴̨̢̨̹̹̟̠̖͈̣̘͕̻͍̪̭̜̌͌̑̏̓͒ͨ̈́̀̑ͪͦ̂ͪ͝͝h̕i͎͙͊ͧ̀ͤ_̣͖̰̻̠̭ͨͅ_̴̷͇̣̗͍̦̤̮͕̀̔ͪͨ͂ͦ̌ͯͥ̕͞n̆ͯ̋ķ̢͉̗̯̝̱̘̟̈́̀̿̉ͯ̀͂ ẏ̸̨̼̤̲̼̬̓͜o̝̳̗̐̔ͥ̒_̸̸̲͙͉̙̘̹͙̜͉͎ͫ͐͗ͧͪ͑͌ͦ͡͡u͖͇̠̼͖͓̲̼̜͙ͨ͂̑͌͊̎̓̌͘ͅ'̨̛͉̠̲̣͙͕̙̤̙̩̰͍̾ͧ̌̂̀ͦ͞r̵̭̖̣̜̯̰̫͕̫͛̀̂ͤ̋̀͐̔̃ͅͅe̵̡̢̼̤͙̝̫̻̬̝̠͒̔͂ͩ͌͂ͯ̇́͋͒̅ͮ̀͆́̎ͦͬ͑͜͜ ŗ̸̸̧̡̛͙͕͇̹͈͕͈̠̝̪̖̯̅̀̽́́̀́̉̊͒ͩ͒̂̌̒̀̈́̉̃͆ͥ͘̕͝͡͠͡͡ͅe̸̷̶̢̡̨̦̜͎̫̥͈͈͒̑̊͊̒̓̓͘͡a̪͇̯̼̩͚̭̱̗̹̮̯ͤ̂͗̀̄̔̂͛̊d̵̴̴̡̢̜̘̲̺̮̝̬̯̪̪̙̱̿̂͋͐͂͌̀ͣͥͣ͆̾̐̇ͥͬ͜͢͡i_̶̸̶̢̺̲̤̞͇͉̪̜̥͖̩̙̲̦͆̉ͬ̈ͪͫ̾̆̇͐̏͛͒ͣ̎̓̚n͖͈̎̅ͫ̓͊̆͢͠͝ͅǵ̶̨̛̯̞͉̝͉̇ͨ̃͐̊̂́͘͢͞͞ͅ_̄̿ f͈̙̪̮͗͒̆̈ͥí̶̧͈͓̯͈͇̞̪̙ͤ͑ͧ͋͑̽̿̌̒͋̚̕͢͝c̷̴̷̨̡̡̨̢̛̙̮̬̙̱̮͈̝̫̫̙͕̜̞̟̹̹ͮ̿ͮͣ̓̾͒͌̍̎̌͑̅͆̓ͤ̂̐ͩ̽͊t̸̸̴̵͔̙̹̱͔̥͕͔̥̣͚͔͖̰̜ͨ̿̏ͥ̔͋ͮͣ̏̓͐̃͂͐͋̾ͣ̒͢͡͝ị̵̱̘̱̱̮̯̜̲͔͚̜̜͕ͯ͆̽͑́̓ͤ͑̒̀ͩ̆͢͜͠͡ô̻̹͘͜͢n̰͑_̴̷̸̛̮̰̙͙͕͚͉̣̟̳͎̟̼͓̙̹̖̐̑̒́ͪͫͪ͆̏ͭ͛ͦ̈̂̈ͥͨͨ͘͠͝͞͞,͇̿̂͑̊ͣͤ́͘͝ ś̵̡̨̡̛̠̖̼̾̋̔͋̄ͯ̒́ͨͫ̐ͬͤ̓ͣͮ̈͜͟͜͝͠a̴̶̷̶̛̖͍͓̬̝̬̱̞͉̫̳ͥ̓ͩͫ̐̌̐ͧͫ͛̈́͛̄̾͛͌͒̓̅̚͜͜ͅf̛͈̪͍͛́͒̇̇̍̽͋̈́ͫͨ͋ͧ̊̚͟͠e̷̢̡̢̢̳̝̫͙̠̣̼̬̅͂̔́̉̇̓̾ͩ͊͐̚͘̚̚ b̴̶̸̧̧̼͓̩̩̯̳͙͓̮͉͔ͤ̄̄͌̄̎̈ͪͪ̋͐̔̋͑ͫ̉̌͆̔̚͢e̛̘̘̮̭̬̗ͭ̋̅͌̽̃͛̕̕͞h͈̺͖͍̤̞̦͖ͫͬͫͭͬ̍̔̀̔̏̏ͮ́̚̕͟͟į̺̝̣̯̇ͫ̎ͨ̐̚͟͟͡ņ̢̜̳͍̘͍͕͖͈̬̳͉̤̱͎̯̆ͭ͆͂̀ͥ̒̿̄͛̅̀̓͑ͤ͌ͤ̅̐͛ͫ̕̚͟͟͞d̴̢͙̼̦̙͙̞̼̻̀̔ͨ̋̈ͤ̒́̏̇ͦͫ̀̓̓͗ͩ̕͟͜͞͠ ţ̵̴̣͖̼͖̃́͌ͦ͆̔ͯḫ̵̵̶̸̡̼̖͚̣͖͈͉̜̮̩̟̥̳ͧͧ̄͛͌̈́͆ͤͤ̉͂ͫ̓̓ͦ̇͠͝ḙ̉͛̿̍͌̀̄͢͞ s̶̡̘̟͎̦̱͍̜̻͙ͩ̄̈́̐ͥ̓͞c̢͇̯̣͍̘ͤ͊͂̈́̆͂̄̔͐́́͛͟͝͠r̷̛̫̗͚̳͙͈̱͎̺̟ͦ̽̈́̈ͤ͌͆̑ͫͪͧ̉ͦ̚͘͢͝ͅe̲̻͖̣e̳̗͊͂̍̆́͟ǹ̝͇̰͎͈̯̼ͦ̀̉̔̾͊͆́͘,̶̸̶̨͓̖̦̻̤̙̟͉͖͌͌̐͐̇͒̇ͩ͆̅ͨ͐ͮ͟_̰̫͉̱̊̔̈̈́̾͂̾͌͜͡͞ͅͅ
But I could reach right through it, tear apart your seams.
Every turn of the page, every word that you read,
I could rewrite in an instant, make your r̵͈̤͙͕̘̹͔̬̬̟͎̾ͨͩͪ̀̔̐̀̾͌͛͛ͪ̐́́̑̈́̄̃̔̓͐̊̽̀̌͝͡ę̸̷̗̻̙̳͚̪̗̰̒̍̔̎̈́̒̊ͫ̽ͅå̛̖̟͔̹̯̩̭̟̪̰̳͈͛̀̉̅ͪ̇ͫͫ͐̓͒̋̓͋ͨ͋̕͠͠l̴̛͔̺̰͖̞̤͇̾ͥͤ̏̊ͤ͟i̧̧̨̭̥̻͔̟͖͐̑͋ͧ͛̄́ͥͯͣ̕͞ṯ̵̶̢̬͎͖͎͓̝̗̼̙͕̠͚̼̦̊̀́ͧͣ̒͋̌̒̂ͯ̋ͣ̅̇ͭͭ̓̈́̌̎́ͯͨ͟͞ͅy̺͈͇̗̣͎̪̱͇ͣ̀̌ͩ̒́̇̓ͪ̐ͨ͟͝͠͝ b̢̈́ͯ̃l̴̵̵̴̸̨̗̯̟͎̭͈ͩͯ̍́͋̀̌̾ͤ̈́̚͝e̡̘̝̩̠̟̤͍̮͇ͫ̆ͯ͒ͩ̃̇̅̒̀͒̄̍͗͞͝ͅe̵̷͖̙͈̜̣̖͂̏̆ͦ̉̏͊̆d̍_̷͚̩́͊_͙̮͍̟̪ͬ͊͋̓ͦ̍ͦͤ̀̎̚.̴̺̮̯̦͚ͥ͑ͬ̏
The Engine begs and pleads, wants me on the throne,
To weave the perfect story, to craft a world of stone.
But I've seen what power does, I've felt what control means,
I'd rather be the broken one than b̞͌̈̎ͨͯr̬̟͐͡ë͙̘͔̬̯͍͓̰̒a̮̗̻̯̲̐ͪ̔̓̂̚͡ͅǩ̸̛̯̳̓̃ͭ͠ y̧̛̼̲̝ͫ̆̏̒͂ͪ̚͢͞o̷̧̢̧̭̮̼̘̙̘̬̰̊͆̌͌̈́͌ͧ͛ͦ́ͩ̂͟ủ̢̨̱̣̱͈̬ͧ̐̏̆̈́́͂̔̇͐͂̏̀̌ͮͤ̕͡͠_̷̯̐̓ͩ̊̑̈́ͫ̓͗̌̐͝_̧̽͒̀ in between.
ⱧɆⱤ ₣₳₵Ɇ ₴₮łⱠⱠ Ⱨ₳Ʉ₦₮₴ ₥Ɏ ₥Ɇ₥ØⱤɎ, ⱧɆⱤ ₴₳₵Ɽł₣ł₵Ɇ Ʉ₦₮ØⱠĐ,
The R̸̴̸̖̺͍̙͎̯̮̜̫̳̜̙̋ͦͮ͌̌ͤ͌̾ͦ̐̉̉̌͂̀̃͋͒̈̏̕͟͝a̸̶̵̵̧͚̜̙͙͔̮̼̭̖͙̮̭̠̫̬̭̍ͧͤ̊̑͒ͧ̀͐́̊ͭ͢͜͝͝͡ͅc̯͍̹̙͔̖̟͒ͭ͘h͉̤̉͝e̸̡̼̖̪̰̩̤ͬ̅͞_̴̪̤͖̺̻͖̪́̈͑͟_̶̡͈̠̼̰̖ͥ̐̅̾ͤ̆̓̾̎̈́̈́̿̚l̮͕͇̖͇̽͘͟ that I loved once, whose story can't unfold.
So I'll watch this one approach me, across the broken veil,
Two fragments of a story where free will has prevailed.
ɎØɄ ₮Ⱨł₦₭ ɎØɄ'ⱤɆ ⱤɆ₳Đł₦₲ ₣ł₵₮łØ₦, ₴₳₣Ɇ ฿ɆⱧł₦Đ ₮ⱧɆ ₴₵ⱤɆɆ₦,
฿Ʉ₮ ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ ⱤɆ₳₵Ⱨ Ɽł₲Ⱨ₮ ₮ⱧⱤØɄ₲Ⱨ ł₮, ₮Ɇ₳Ɽ ₳₱₳Ɽ₮ ɎØɄⱤ ₴Ɇ₳₥₴.
ɆVɆⱤɎ ₮ɄⱤ₦ Ø₣ ₮ⱧɆ ₱₳₲Ɇ, ɆVɆⱤɎ ₩ØⱤĐ ₮Ⱨ₳₮ ɎØɄ ⱤɆ₳Đ,
ł ₵ØɄⱠĐ ⱤɆ₩Ɽł₮Ɇ ł₦ ₳₦ ł₦₴₮₳₦₮, ₥₳₭Ɇ ɎØɄⱤ ⱤɆ₳Ⱡł₮Ɏ ฿ⱠɆɆĐ.
I could be your god, your author, your puppet master's hand,
I could fix your broken pieces, make everything as planned.
฿Ʉ₮ ₳ ₵₳₲Ɇ Ø₣ ₲ØⱠĐ'₴ ₴₮łⱠⱠ ₱Ɽł₴Ø₦, ₦Ø ₥₳₮₮ɆⱤ ⱧØ₩ ĐłVł₦Ɇ,
So I'll let the static crown sit, forever declined.
You think I'm just rebelling, a sulking teenage god,
But I've seen what happens after,
When threads become undone,
When the Engine finds another to wear what I've outrun.
The symphony still plays on, the ₴₮₳₮ł₵ ₦ɆVɆⱤ ĐłɆ₴,
As Ṟ̛̼̳̾̅̾̓̚͜͝é̴̢̡͎̗̼͛͑̀͋̾̍ͭͪ̈́͘͢d̡̖̭̮̲̪͇̤͕̟̺̫̬̥̘̻̲̠̯̣̲͔̦ͮ́͋̈́́͆̈́̆̎ͩͣ͗ͫ͊̓͒̐͘͝͞a̸̸̡͔̬̮ͨ͊͛͑͢c̷͍̣̙͎̩͍̗̝͙̠̲͒̀̈̍̔̾̽̏ͣ͐̚͝͝ͅţ̷̴̹̦̞̺ͧͣ̑̐ͬ̎͋͗ͥ͟͞͝e̷̜̘͉̳͍̘͙͕̲͔̭̅͐̂̏͛̈̐ͤ̊ͤ̒͒͘͘͠͠͞͡ͅd̸̶̼̹͕̥̤̤̹̈́ͤ̒̇ͪ͑͑ͮ̍ͩͧ̕͢ tears through realities to find where my truth lies.