The Vanity of Dictator
Here I’m, standing, stranded,
Because of your desire
For a new realm.
Acclaim and fame
Making masses orphans, homeless
Apathetic, helpless and more.
The new rhythm of
Endless screams and explosions
Brought by you imprisoned peace.
Glory to you,
On decorating everywhere
With corpses.
When so many conflicts go on with the self,
Why extend it to others too?
Could’ve polemic rather engaging in bloodbath.