A Spirit of Terror stalks the land
Ruination now is near at hand
All eyes fix upon the man
Whose face doth sneer with cold command
Like unto Ozymandias of old
His claim to greatness takes no hold
The people cower, make no stand
The Empire itself reduced to sand
Surely Shelley would understand.
Jun 4, 2019
Jun 4, 2019 at 10:31 AM UTC
A Spirit of Terror stalks the land
Ruination now is near at hand
All eyes fix upon the man
Whose face doth sneer with cold command
Like unto Ozymandias of old
His claim to greatness takes no hold
The people cower, make no stand
The Empire itself reduced to sand
Surely Shelley would understand.
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