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