Lord Sardonic

With a cleft grin he sways
Can he be of assistance?
You should move from his way

Tail-coat submission?
He prefers stalking prey
No trumpet procession
Sardonic and vain

By moonlight the vacant ones,
Succumb to their desire to fear
Whilst he revels in the silence
At last the sheep have disappeared

The prefered mode
Problems to no end
They just seem to keep building
Hoping shit turns to sand

And wrong again
He has no time for small effets

With no more care
If you ever see the world in colour
Stick to your plan of rejection
The projection of your heart is cuckold


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