by Nick Gisburne
A murderer, but such a lovely man.
Delightful, always ready with a joke.
Imagine such a monster, if you can,
The crack of every bone he ever broke.
Relaxing with an elegant cigar,
While driven by a thirst for blood, for pain,
His legacy forever leaves a scar
Too barbarous, too brutal to explain.
The father of prosperity, the king,
The figurehead for reverence, for pride.
So many, in their ignorance, still cling
To something broken long before he died.
His victims, in their thousands, would rejoice
To learn his lies no longer have a voice.
