caged in spears
thrown by peers
aimed in haste
target of hate

a brewing storm
forlorn in scorn form
flooding these plains with its mutiny reigns

torn between position and opposition
wolfpack barking orders
to pack my rucksack
and head for the borders

stand alone on a tainted throne
staring blankly
at the backdrop of my sanctuary

is this rain
or are these tears
that's stained my concrete face for years

years of peace
now served for the feast

and after the spoils of my toils
only i remain
to pick up the remains...

I AM STILL LORD!
OF MY PRISON WARD!