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The Soul of a Tyrant
A tyrant, though he’s feared, he also fears:
A symmetry of horror unites them all.
Unleashed, a dragon that forever nears,
And he, as all the rest, it soon may maul.
A tyrant rides a tiger, yet he knows
It is not love that keeps him in that place;
And that which comes, it just as swiftly goes;
The claws of retribution can he face.
A tyrant may have had a better course
In selling shirts upon a dusty street;
Immersed in simple love, and not in force,
With friends around him, children at his feet.
The vacant glamor of a wretched life,
Forever fearing for a sudden knife.
Copyright ©
Jerrold Prothero
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