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Ivan The Terrible
The savage marble of the walls,
the smooth and silent witnesses
of blood and bone and hammer falls
around the heartless Russian halls
where Ivan dredged in fire hissed.
The tyrant spined.
The rusted fist.
The torture of those never missed.
The dynasties of disappeared, as Ivan dined.
A tyrant spined.
Ivan, tzar.
The rooks in check.
The arch of rulers.
Christ of kings.
Giver of the gift of pain.
A billion bastards at his beck.
A flail of meat.
A God insane.
A tyrant built of zealous rage.
A living blade.
A withered hilt.
The flickered stage with scarlet guest.
Nero, impressed.
The slow wept tears of leaded glass,
are hollow yellow witnesses
of Anna love in deathly fade,
a monster formed and savage made,
and shadows in the autumn halls
where once a boy had laughed and ran,
and once a prince was once a mastered man.
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