Time ages and
Time tires,
The future is past
And forgotten the
Craving for vainglory
Wealth and might.
 
Stale the taste of power;
The roar of accolades
Distantly deaf:
Only the smell of
Putrid death
Grows hauntingly
Familiar.
 
Once a self esteemed
Self-deceiving continental giant,
A pretender to delusional
Royalty:
Now a diminutive ridicule,
Shunned, despised, and
Lovingly loathed
 
What profit
All those murders?
What morbid glee
In disembowelled mothers?
What pleasure
In lifelong loneliness,
Powerfully powerless:
Friendless,
Unloved,
But used?
 
Indeed
Time ages, Time
Grows old, and
Time tires.