Byzantium

Byzantium In August, the heat tastes of dust and desperation the despot feels that soon a time will change the power is but in the eyes of the general The sun senses a mounting revolt, is prepared will show no mercy but absorb the world in its inner core where we can burn forever. August is tired too, he the General gave them a lovely spring and now the riff-raff is turning against him The mighty oak tree whispers to the lesser trees about sedition talks about democracy. Stubbornly the sun hangs on, till battle clouds like warships appear at the horizon. His reign drowns in torrential rain downpour that will destroy his life´s work.