At the keep where he was kept,
Sleeping awake above books of little interest,
Cornelius had his guards welcome old friends,
To stand within his company.
Red was reinforced by blackened scales,
Of halting persuasion, no blade could cross,
Bend-wise, down, left or right,
Only forward against advance,
Would blows receive that which was kept,
Inside their insistence that,
Mankind's destiny not bow.
Before the command of Song or Venom.
A closed decision, offered no openings.
Slammed shut vapid covers, returned to shelves installed by father.
The scholar king, it was said he was the most well-read Farth of all time,
Far from me to judge a man whose charisma rallied freedom to blossom,
In fields of comfortable servitude, against his cruel edict, abuse was accepted,
Even loved before its passing from this world, the light stung, the darkness comforted,
Daytime's burning insults.