He sat atop his marble throne
In silks of radiant hue.
His enemies, to wolves he'd thrown
His decrees were swift and true.

In his right hand he held power to love
In his left, the power to destroy.
Atop his towering throne above
Iron grip he did employ.

He came from nothing and now had all
And cut down a thousand men.
Saw the rise of brutes and fall
And vowed to rid the world of them.

Atop his regal pedestal of stone
On the backs of nameless men.
Alone atop that white marble bone
A tyrant sat just as back then.