RosieFreakish

Ages ago, long before Elizabeth employed pirates against the Spanish, a young lord ruled happily in his kingdom by the sea. He was not renowned for being an exceptional leader, nor was he particularly skilled on the battlefield, but anyone and everyone who spoke with him agreed that he told the prettiest lies.
They were pieces of art, those fabrications. Each one was told with such care for detail and (for lack of a better word) love that by the end the listeners found themselves wishing in the pit of their souls that even a sentence of it was true. Sometimes they were, in the way that art imitates life, but usually they remained tales of little consequence.
Unfortunately for the lord, not everybody appreciated the stories, and soon stronger lords were pressing in upon his kingdom. To his surprise, few of them considered a fanciful tale on a winter night suitable tribute, and fewer still listened when he tried to reason with them. Eventually, after decades of fighting for a cause they

Every night I don a different mask
And act my part as you inside the dance
Loosed from my prison, running, finally free
At night I am the master of the stars
The only one to truly cause a chill
Or boil blood with nothing but my laugh
You stir under your covers, and I laugh
My breath fogs underneath my current mask
Oh, I'm truly sorry, are you chilled?
As I grow ever hotter in this dance
(A tango with the brightest of the stars)
Imprisoned in daylight, but now we're free
Nothing in this world is ever free
Truly not a thing, even my laugh
Comes with a price that chains me to the stars
And forces me to wear this cursed mask
Trapped within this never-ending dance
Even as my soul is left to chill
Rain begins to fall, and as it chills
Something in me screams, 'You are not free'
Even in the freedom of the dance
I know that I am shackled, and my laugh
Comes out forced from beneath my mask
A parody of you, my movie star
My eyes burn brighter than any of the stars
Could hope to be, trapped in sp