Misplaced Cliches

Is this reality?
Myth of the tangible
Temple of beauty
The Blackest of hearts
in an aegis of the darkest gold

You enter this dark room
You breathe these noxious fumes
Yet you seem to call me a misandrist
You cover yourself in dead plumes
Yet you drink my blood in the mist

Leaves rustles along this street
Paved with your f**ked up lies
As you cover your defeat in concrete
children hasten to cover their eyes
As the sun burns you all one bye one
And now it's done

I am thy master...
The darkest of your fears...
A Tainted Prayer...
The cremation of your tears...
I pull the strings...
And you dance to my tune...

This is what i have become
This is what i am...
Crimson Pain
Scarlet hate
This is my fate
I repeat the same old cliches
over and over again
A violet stain