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Wilburn Reading

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London, English, UK

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The Khanqueror

by

Wilburn Reading

Palaces of Gold.
Pillaging and Plundering.
I have no equal.
All priests were fleeced,
pray peace to my steeple.
You and all of the swine.
Your women are mine.
Daughters and wives alike.
I'll take from the pen of fodder,
when the time is right.
And i'm ripe to hold.
Palaces of Gold.

In me, you don't find flaws.
Visually.
Or Literally,
its written in the bylaws.
See through the prism- Abandon all gloss.
Randomly select a few,
from your midst.
Vicious bosses all,
I execute.
All ignorance is damned. I demand forth:
The stupid. The drunkards. Lifelong blunderers.
Palaces of Gold.
Pillage and Plunder.

Assimilation isn't a word.
Take the vultures out of Culture,
So the lines are blurred.
Rich to meak.
Optimistic to bleak.
All are equal..
Under the one who isn't.
Chieftain of Man.
Whose World is a limit.
Palaces of Gold.

Once again, at last.
Your races don't crash.
Decorum restored. Sip from the flask.
Live it so you can admit it.
Pride in your eyes, and Death to the Bigot.
The walls still stand, towers still remain.
From a neighboring hill all seems the same.
The frame is Wrong.
Because inside its Right.
Conquered by man from the dark with light.
The gold is gone from your palace.
But the structure doesn't fold.
With the huns that I mustered,
went home to grow old.
For the right price,
the world is sold.
As long as governments fail.
And soliders fold.
But as my thirst was slaked, I see now
the land was raped.
Can't restore it's spirit.
Or give back whats stolen.
Because I've lost my own,
And now.. I'm old.
And the Hunger no longer remains
for pillaging or plundering.
These Palaces of Gold.
Like Ghengis Khan,
I left them to my
underlings.