Conceit Of Power

Many have resigned their existence for vain crusade,

Many have, beneath the oppression of the spear,

Resigned to their destiny, satiated with bloodshed & icy cold fear.

The chronicles of strife linger, while, the puny affections fade.

Under the wrath of starry skies, all benevolence was forbade.

The ocean so liberal, all vessels did it steer,

Into the expanse of murk, away from all that was dear.

And lost, oh lost! Was the blissful serenade.

No mortal could shun the spoil of the dagger

All he could do, was await the impending guile

But there was the virtue of candor, which never did stagger

Even in this sinister stint, honor wasn't imbecile,

It was in its ilk that no one could fragger.

Now ask ye ask, wasn't this combat futile?