it is truly the perfect being:

its armor is tenfold shields
its teeth, swords
claws in the guise of greeting hands

how does it sleep at night,
this tyrant -
heaping slaves on the pyre
just to watch ambition burn

it is truly the perfect being:

it's armor is tenfold shields,
and from it's tongue, fire

could any being verily bast in malevolence?
as if its indifference might pardon it
this tyrant

he is the fatherless,
the arrogance of a being that insists it created itself

what can it create?
this uninspired muse rules only barren lands
it cannot create a thing

why the public speaks the truth,
simply tear it down

dissent, and smolder

your thoughts are law, great dragon
just spare me and mine,
while i bide my time
knowing you well,
the enemy

cower may the everyman,
i show no recoil for
a would-be dragon

the common man is the consummate dragon -
the poorest excuse of a man

my chest to shields
my teeth to swords
my hands to claws
and fire

now we can make war

a titan against a titan