Immortality drips
From the edge of my sword
My command of the muses
As light as the Lord
Of a province of darkness
From whence I craft states
In a mind made of metalcore
Tectonic plates

I’m the eon traverser
Subversive immersing
Myself in a poverty void
Silver surfing
The wake of the breaking
Of space into shapes
As I tread shining paths
With a wrath made of grapes

And a Robespierre clarity
Visions of past
Revolts endlessly leading
To wars amongst class
When the ending, beginning
Again from the same
Wild-eyed little terror
No lion could tame