Office Warlord

He smiles An almost insane smile Like an incomplete piece of mould His handshake is stiff It's as if his hand were dead to his whole body He likes to play king All bow around him Like leaves being rustled by the wind Him, the wind that changes destiny In the boardroom But my bark is worn out To bend is to break it And the branches are not fully grown It hasn't even began to flower yet So where shall my leaves fall from But he is not yet done He will continue to fight Even when he is alone on the battlefield Because it has been predetermined That he shall be the warlord of the era Battle or no battle He shall continue to fight Will he survive this time?