• Your face is painted upon the walls like a Monarchist's mural.
    Conquest flares in your eyes like invisible rage.
    Your will rains upon them like acid,
    Bringing the dark of their backs to boil.

    Whips crack at their heels as nipping sharks.
    Spines like bullets pierce the rough of their hands.
    The lips of your guards are sewn with red tape.
    They carry your stench of victory.