Where is the boy?
Who could all day imagine
When did he become
An old man-minded dragon
Obsessed with his hubris
Caressing his treasure
Distressed by the slightest
Same change
In the weather
Unfettered by suffering
Even his own
Unperturbed by atrocities
Building his throne
Atop bones and tombstones
All alone in his lair
And despairs so instinctively
No longer cares
For affairs of the heart
Former love for the people
Just sheep to the slaughter
All worthlessly equal
No path to salvation
Just sociopathic
Estrangement
Enraged
Disaffection
Defection
Deranged
Can’t contain
The brain drain
Disconnection
From what still remains
But a strand
Of abandoned
The show must go on
Let this script
Be my stand-in