Britannia Rex


Power seeks momentum not reflection,

Events of significance distort time.

Bearers of The Reins conjure new dimension,

Slower horses stall, re-joining by design.


Nothing has changed, no New Age awaits

The curvature of all bends towards its end.

An open door, once resplendent gates

The enemy a once beloved friend.


Goodbyes are mere hellos exhaled

No one meets beyond that breath,

Their atoms cast asunder, failed.

Each soul extant though flesh is death


Strength demands assurance

That each must know their place,

Survival is endurance

And the presence of a Mace


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