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La Corona The Tyrant King

What do you feel about this? I was sitting down looking outside. The mall was empty with minimal cars passing by and I felt a sense of dread. I started to write

La Corona

The king wears a crown on his head
And the subjects are dead, dead
Subjects fear what comes still
As loved ones drop killed, killed

The oppression makes the kingdom bare
The king with the crown
Thrives when his subjects hide and scared
The king strikes without sound

The king makes a bed
With no sight of dread
Because he loves the sight of sinners dead, dead
He saw his subjects as they bled

His people shout with glee
Because they are finally free, free
The king with the crown
Finally put the virus down, down

La Corona our savior from the evil man
Your people thank you
We are grateful for reaching out your hand
My people can start anew

Lyssa S