Damocles

Live by the sword, die by the sword
A tyrants crown is gilded with angst and terror
Lackluster and dull in the shadow of the scythe
Riddled with racing disordered thoughts
The path to power lies upon the edge of the blade
Scattered with corpses and gibbering apes
Innumerable foes concealed in the shadows
Scorpions, spiders and snakes surround
Slither to deliver palsy in my sleep
Voices intoning bravado and strength
Falter and crack, impulsively lash out
Barely concealing the all consuming fear
Of the possessor of absolute power
He who would rule the coming age
He who would take pleasure in terror
Thrive on unrelenting anxiety and dread
May sleep soundly under the sword of Damocles