August 26, 2009
Overlord
The condescending glare gulps placid lands.
Waves of dull claws swagger across the neonatal valley.
A rain of umbrage decimates the garden of souls.
The malignant tongue guzzles the amalgam of tears and sweat.
With destitute hands, cygnets implore.
But to no end, its reign slaps the Earth.
With peacock feathers stuck to its behind,
Barbarous hands smashed puerile glee.
Tyros armed with pages of stabs
Carp the disdain towards insightful sparks.
With flamboyance, despotic grins caged victory.
To this day, no words dare to sting its cupidity.
Ephemeral trails still remind
The malign towards our kind.
