The Weeping King

Beneath The Briar 

Oh my love

In the orchard where the wind cuts low,
I carved your name in the apple’s glow.
The roots drank deep where secrets fell,
Our hearts a hymn, our mouths a spell.

The crows were watching from the broken bough,
Their wings stitched dark across the dusk-bound vows.
Your touch, a river where I’d sink and swim,
Your voice, a chapel where the light grew dim.

Oh, I’ve known the taste of sin and stone,
But your hands made a sinner feel at home.

Let the sinners sing beneath the briar,
Set the altar flames, a holy pyre.
Loving you’s a blessing, a sin,
Damn me, I’d do it again.
Oh, damn me, I’d do it again.

I laid my faith where the briars grew,
With bruises borne of loving you.
The rain was soft, but it struck like blame,
Baptized in fire and whispered names.

The orchard wept when the morning came,
Your scent still hanging like the quiet shame.
And if heaven wept for what we’d done,
Hell kept warm in the touch of the sun.

Oh, I’ve felt the grace of dirt and bone,
But your kiss turned a graveyard into home.

Let the sinners sing beneath the briar,
Set the altar flames, a holy pyre.
Loving you’s a blessing, a sin,
Damn me, I’d do it again.
Oh, damn me, I’d do it again.

I’d drink the cup, I’d break the bread,
I’d take the thorn, though it bled.
I’d light the match, I’d strike the spark,
I’d burn with you in the orchard dark.

Let the sinners sing...
Beneath the briar...

Let the sinners sing beneath the briar,
Set the altar flames, a holy pyre.
Loving you’s a blessing, a sin,
Damn me, I’d do it again.
Oh, damn me, I’d do it again.

In the orchard where the wind cuts low,
The roots still drink, and the apples glow.
If love’s a sin, then let it remain—
I’ll carve your name again, again.

Let the sinners sing beneath the briar,
Set the altar flames, a holy pyre.
Loving you’s a blessing, a sin,
Damn me, I’d do it again.
Oh, damn me, I’d do it again.

In the orchard where the wind cuts low,
The roots still drink, and the apples glow.
If love’s a sin, then let it remain—
I’ll carve your name again, again.


Beneath the Briar

House Of Ash 

Oh Mercy! 

The house stood quiet on the edge of the gray,
The walls still carried what the fire took away.
I crossed the threshold with dust in my chest,
Where you once sang and silence did the rest. 

The air was thick with the weight of our sins,
Your name still burning where the prayer begins.
I’ve held the ember, I’ve kissed the flame,
But love don’t shelter; it calls your name. 

Oh, mercy never made its home,
Where we built love from blood and stone. 

Let the wind move through the house of ash,
Where fire wrote our names and passed.
If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return.
I’d light the match and not return. 

The boards still groan where your footsteps stayed,
A shadow stretched against the glass that frayed.
Your hands remain in the soot and the stain,
The kind of love that won’t wash out with rain. 

We fed the blaze with what we couldn’t speak,
You struck the spark, but it was mine to keep.
And though it burned, and though it tore,
I’d lay the kindling just once more. 

Oh, mercy never made its home,
Where we built love from blood and stone. 

Let the wind move through the house of ash,
Where fire wrote our names and passed.
If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return.
I’d light the match and not return. 

When the roof gave way and the sky broke through,
The light fell down where I still stood with you.
I could leave, but this ground is mine,
Where flames once spoke and love was divine. 

Sing for the walls that couldn’t stay,
Love built in ash will blow away. 

Let the wind move through the house of ash,
Where fire wrote our names and passed.
If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return. 

Let the wind move through the house of ash,
Where the past was carved and won’t come back.
If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return. 

If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return.

Where the past was carved and won’t come back.
If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return. 

Oh mercy

If loving you was meant to burn,
I’d light the match and not return.

House Of Ash

Roots Don't Hold 

I found you by the river’s bend,
Your shadow swayed where the waters end.
Your hands like branches, your voice the breeze,
You taught me love in a grove of trees.
But roots don’t hold when the flood runs high,
And rivers ache to kiss the sky.
We drank from the same, unyielding stream,
But every drop fell toward the sea. 

Oh, I’ve prayed to the tide to stay, 
But the waters keep running away. 

Hold me where the roots take hold,
Love me ‘til the flood runs cold.
If we’re just borrowed by the tide,
Let’s bloom before the waters rise. 

Your laughter echoed where the cypress grew,
A melody the earth once knew.
But soil erodes when the storm breaks through,
And even love can’t hold that truth.
I’ve chased your shadow through the reeds,
With every step, the river feeds.
And though the current pulls me down,
I’ll cling to you till we both drown. 

Oh, I’ve prayed to the tide to stay
But the waters keep running away. 

Hold me where the roots take hold,
Love me ‘til the flood runs cold.
If we’re just borrowed by the tide,
Let’s bloom before the waters rise. 

The tide’s not cruel, but it won’t forgive,
It takes and leaves what it must to live.
But even as the banks give way,
Your name remains where the waters stay. 

Roots don’t hold when the flood runs high,
And rivers ache to kiss the sky.
Hold me where the roots take hold,
Love me ‘til the flood runs cold.
If we’re just borrowed by the tide,
Let’s bloom before the waters rise.
Hold me where the roots take hold,
Love me ‘til the flood runs cold.
If we’re just borrowed by the tide,
Let’s bloom before the waters rise. 

The roots remain where the river goes,
And every bloom is born to flow.

The roots remain where the river goes,
And every bloom is born to flow.

Roots Don't Hold

Weaver of the Thread


The loom hums low where the weavers stand,
Three silent sisters with steady hands.
One spins the thread, one measures the line,
And one waits patient with a blade so fine.
They say the fates don’t bend or break,
But love’s a thread I’d dare remake.
If gods won’t answer when mortals pray,
Then I will steal the thread away.

Oh, Weaver, do you hear my cry?
Does the loom grow heavy when the good must die?

Oh, weaver of the thread, do you feel the strain?
Every life unwinds in joy and pain.
If the line is written, let the spindle tear,
I’ll walk unbroken where the brave don’t dare.

The strands entwine, the knots grow tight,
A thousand lives in a single night.
They pull the line, they cut it clean,
A life undone, a quiet dream.
But what of love, and what of loss?
Does the thread remember every cost?
If fate is bound by fragile strings,
Then let me tear what sorrow brings.

Oh, Weaver, do you hear my cry?
Does the loom grow heavy when the good must die?

Oh, weaver of the thread, do you feel the strain?
Every life unwinds in joy and pain.
If the line is written, let the spindle tear,
I’ll walk unbroken where the brave don’t dare.

The thread will break, the spindle will fall,
But love remains to bind it all.
Though the weavers call, though the loom may hum,
I’ll twist the thread till the gods succumb.

The loom hums low where the weavers stand,
Three silent sisters with steady hands.

Weaver of the Thread

The Stone Won't Stay

The hill was steep, the air was thin
The stone beneath my calloused skin
Each inch I climb, the weight remains
The curse, the load, the endless strain.

The gods all laugh, the heavens jeer
But what’s a life without the fear?
If every fall could break my soul
Then every climb would make me whole.

Oh, the stone won’t stay, the hill won’t end
But I’d push it all just to rise again

The stone won’t stay, but I won’t kneel
I’ll bear the weight, I’ll bend the wheel
If gods demand my soul to break
Then every fall’s a choice I make

The boulder speaks, its voice a groan,
A hymn of earth, a song of stone.
“What fools you men, who climb and fall,
The weight you bear will take you all.

But what’s a man if not defied?
A rebel born, a spark of pride.
Though time may win, though hills may grow
I’ll find my heaven in the throw

Oh, the stone may fall, the gods may see
But every push is victory.

The mountain shifts, the stars align,
But I will push until they shine.
No curse, no fate, no godly scorn,
Can stop the soul that’s battle-worn.

The hill was steep, the air was thin
The climb repeats, the stone begins.



The Stone Won’t Stay

The River Runs Long

The Hunter's Heart

Whiskey words, wicked ways,
Cut me down, then beg me to stay.
Teeth like knives, tongue like fire,
Burn me up, baby I'm your pyre.

Oh, we’re poison in the well,
Oh, we raise a little hell.

We push, we pull, we crash, we claw,
Kiss like thieves with broken jaws.
Love ain't love when it’s war we wage,
We pull each other down to the grave.

Lipstick stains, blood on the sheets,
Swear we’re done, but we never leave.
Spit your curse, I’ll bite right back,
You love me best when you attack.

Oh, we’re venom in the vein,
Oh, we drown inside the rain.

We push, we pull, we crash, we claw,
Kiss like thieves with broken jaws.
Love ain't love when it’s war we wage,
We pull each other down to the grave.

Oh, my hands reach for your neck,
Oh, your nails cut through my chest.
Oh, we dance so close to death,
Still, we ain't done yet.

Oh. Oh, Oh

Lantern light on a bloodstained track,
One goes forward, one goes back.
Knife in the dark or a cold, deep well,
Either way, we both raise hell.

We push, we pull, we crash, we claw,
Kiss like thieves with broken jaws.
Love ain't love when it’s war we wage,
We pull each other—

—down to the grave.

We Kiss Like Thieves

They sell redemption by the pound,
silver chains and splintered thrones.
A girl in red walks holy ground,
a boy sets fire to what he owns.

The bells don’t ring but the choir sways,
hands outstretched to empty skies.
The gods have left, they lost their way,
or maybe they were never wise.

And every hand still takes the gold,
and every mouth still sings its song.
We say we’re young, we say we’re bold,
but we are dust and sinking strong.

Oh, Babylon, how sweet the sin,
how soft the fall, how deep we swim.
Oh, Babylon, you promised me
we'd never bow, we'd never bleed.

A beggar plays a preacher’s tune,
his pockets filled with copper prayers.
A mother drowns beneath the moon,
the tide still calls, but no one cares.

The king still sings in halls of glass,
his hands unclean, his mouth untouched.
The feast is set, the dice are cast,
he holds the knife, he takes too much.

And every hand still takes the gold,
and every mouth still sings its song.
We say we’re young, we say we’re bold,
but we are dust and sinking strong.

Oh, Babylon, how sweet the sin,
how soft the fall, how deep we swim.
Oh, Babylon, you promised me
we’d never bow, we’d never bleed.

The wine runs dry, the night caves in,
a candle flickers, counts the cost.
I reach for you, I beg, I spin,
but all we were is all we lost.

Oh, Babylon, you stole the light,
you filled my cup, you broke my spine.
Oh, Babylon, you sang to me,
you swore we'd rise, you watched me sink.

So kiss me now in the city's dust,
before the gates collapse to rust.
And when they write our epitaph,
let it read: "We loved. We laughed."

Oh Babylon, we loved, we laughed.

Babylon, You And Me

[Ancient Greek]
Ἐν τῷ ὀνόματι τοῦ βασιλέως,
Φῶς καὶ δόξα ἐν τοῖς πολέμοις.
Ζῆτε πρὸς τὴν ἀθανασίαν,
Ὁ κόσμος ἡμῶν ἐστίν. 

(In the name of the King,
Light and glory in the wars.
Live for immortality,
The world is ours.) 

There’s a fever in the breaking dawn,
In the hush where the armies yawn.
The earth is restless underfoot,
As if it knows the price of what we took.
A voice like thunder, soft yet cruel,
With a dream sharper than any jewel.
He said, "The world is ours to bend and break,
But we leave behind hearts for whom we ache." 

Oh, men of Alexandria, rise—
We’ll burn our names into the skies.
And though we march where shadows run,
Our love waits under a softer sun. 

He spoke of fate like a jealous bride,
With a vow bound by the blood and tide.
"The gods don’t give, they make you fight,
But heaven’s ours if we reach that height."
And still, in dreams, I see her face,
A map no war or time could trace.
Her hands like home, her voice like spring,
The tether to my wandering wings. 

Oh, men of Alexandria, rise—
We’ll burn our names into the skies.
And though we march where shadows run,
Our love waits under a softer sun. 

There’s no map for where we go,
No warmth to hold when the cold winds blow.
Yet her letter lingers, worn and torn,
A whispered prayer against the storm.
She writes, "When the stars look down, think of me,
My heart is the fire that will set you free." 

The road we walk is cruel and wide,
But there’s no weight greater than pride.
Still, in the dark, I long for home,
For the arms I left, for the seeds we’d sown. 

Oh, men of Alexandria, rise—
We’ll burn our names into the skies.
But when the dust and battles are done,
May we return to that softer sun. 

[Ancient Greek]
Ζῆτε πρὸς τὴν ἀθανασίαν,
Ὁ κόσμος ἡμῶν ἐστίν.
(Live for immortality,
The world is ours.)

Under A Softer Sun

I see the world through a flickerin’ screen,
Lord, Each headline's another bad dream.
“Man down in Memphis,” “Flood took the town,”
“Fire in the hills, burned the whole place down.”
Oh, that’s how they sell it, trouble on the rise,
It ain’t no fun ‘til someone dies. 

I'm watchin' the world burn, sittin' on the sideline,
Safe in my chair while the stories unwind.
Watchin' the world burn, watchin' the flames climb,
Lord, it’s the way that we’ve been made to survive. 

They’re sellin’ us sorrow, we buy it in spades,
Gotta feed that hunger 'fore it fades away.
Blood hits the dirt, tears hit the sky,
Mama holds her baby, whisperin', "Why?"
But I keep watchin’, a sickness in my soul,
Drawn to the darkness, ain't got control. 

I'm watchin' the world burn, sittin' on the sideline,
Safe in my chair while the stories unwind.
Watchin' the world burn, watchin' the flames climb,
Lord, it's the only way we know to survive. 

Bullets through the churchyard, drums on the wind,
We’re all just creatures when the dark creeps in.
Turn your eyes, but the smoke still fills your lungs,
We’re wolves in the shadows, waitin’ for the sun. 

I’m watchin’ the world burn, can’t save it this time,
Safe in my chair while the flames reach the sky.
Watchin’ the world burn, no tears left to cry,
Lord, it’s the only way we’ve learned to survive. 

Ashes fall like rain, drown the world in grey,
Smoke hides the stars, and the night takes the day.
Oh, we watched it all burn, never looked away. 

Oh lord, we never looked away. 

Ashes fall like rain, drown the world in grey,
Smoke hides the stars, and the night takes the day.
Oh, we watched it all burn, never looked away. 

Oh lord, we never looked away.

Drawn To The Darkness

She stood where the hemlocks swayed, where the carrion crows take flight  
Eyes like a sky before the storm, lips full of borrowed light  
She sang of roads that never turn, of lovers swallowed whole  
I held my tongue, I held my ground—now silence owns my soul  

Oh, Orpheus turned too soon, and I did just the same  
Let the gods bear witness, I am shackled by my shame  
A coward’s hands are empty, yet they tremble just the same  
And the winds still whisper her name  

She laid a blade against my palm, said, *“Blood can bind or sever”*  
I let it spill, I let her go, believing loss was clever  
Now every path I walk is split, each door locked from within  
And time, that faithful butcher, grins each time I beg to sin  

Oh, Orpheus turned too soon, and I did just the same  
Let the gods bear witness, I am shackled by my shame  
A coward’s hands are empty, yet they tremble just the same  
And the winds still whisper her name  

Midas cursed the things he touched, but I let gold slip through  
I was Daedalus without the thread, too proud to see it through  
Now the gods drink deep on my regret, they laugh, they pass the cup  
And I kneel among their broken men, too late to offer up  

Oh, Orpheus turned too soon, and I did just the same  
Let the gods bear witness, I am shackled by my shame  
A coward’s hands are empty, yet they tremble just the same  
And the winds still whisper her name  

She waits where the hemlocks sway, but I will never stand  
For fate has carved my epitaph upon my hollow hand

Shackled By Shame

She came to me, wreathed in linen and rain,
With a name like a psalm on the lips of the slain. 

Said, "Boy, there’s a cross you were carved to bear,
And a love like a fire they won’t let you declare."
She traced a prayer down the length of my spine,
Said, "Lay down your blade, love, and I'll lay down mine." 

Oh, the sword and the saint, bound by vow and by vein,
One cut for the kingdom, one cut for the pain.
If I’m damned for desire, then let it be known,
I’d swing for her love, though it cuts to the bone. 

Oh, it cuts to the bone! 

They found us in whispers, in flickering light,
With silver in hands that had prayed through the night.
Said, "Son, you must choose: is it love, is it faith?"
I swore her name louder than Heaven's embrace. 

She kissed the blood where the iron had lain,
Said, "Lay down your blade, love, and I'll do the same." 

Oh, Lay down your blade, love, and I'll lay down mine 

Oh, the sword and the saint, bound by vow and by vein,
One cut for the kingdom, one cut for the pain.
If I’m damned for desire, then let it be known,
I’d swing for her love, though it cuts to the bone. 

No heaven, no choir, no absolving hand,
Just the cost of our sins in a merciless land.
I hold her like judgment, I hold her like grace,
And I’d die on this altar for one more embrace.... 

For one more embrace! 

So bury the blade where the roses have grown,
For love is to give not meant to be owned.


The Sword & The Saint

Tech enthusiast. Lifelong songwriter. I use AI to make music.

Band Lineup:
Minor Ritual - Indie, Post Rock
Field Of Ashes - Ambient Post Rock
Zach Rye Band - Folk & Singer Songwriter
The Velvetines - 70's Psychedelic Rock 
Ryder Lux - Pop & Tropical House
James Morrisoni - Classic Rock
The Quiet Verse - Lo-Fi Hip Hop, Soul & Rap
The Weeping King - Soulful Rock, Alternative Rock
Two Tribes Theory - Rap, Reggae, Afrobeat Fusion
Knox County Ghost - Outlaw Country

I’ve been writing and performing music since my younger days, though life took me on a 20-year journey through the tech world. Songwriting has always been my passion—a way to capture emotions, stories, and moments. Now, with the help of AI, I’m turning my lyrics into the music I love to listen to. 

Don't like AI music? That's all good, I am not trying to make money or take the shine from awesome live artists, I just like to write the stories I like to hear.

#MelodicEthereal #Reggae #HipHop #Country #70s #SingerSongwriter #Pop #Soul #Folk #Electronic #Melodic

The Weeping King

MyKingFalls Collective