My Humble Arrogance

I am no lower than he who's kingly majesty,
Lays claim upon the throne of the Lord,
Bedecked in gold and precious stones,
Nor do I wield a fiery sword,
And yet, I am stronger than he,
For I am forged of the finest steel,
Fired by a passion of solitude.

I ne'er kneel, kowtow nor yield,
To his daring command,
He may feel secure in his own vanity,
Romance his own ego in the mirror,
But his stance holds no priority over me!

I bear the scars of battles fought,
Won, lost, the stalemate of compromise,
The outcome matters not,
For there is no glory in an iron fist, no prize,
To the victorious, only a darkened heart.

The ember of a spent flame,
A melted wick,
So brittle is the shame
Of greedy genocide, uncompromising,
In its dog eat dog agenda,
He may sit kingly in his throne,
But I shall never cede nor surrender!

A flame burns eternal in my heart,
I am stoic in my solitude,
I bear no grudges, nor harbor any anger,
But have the gall to defend my attitude,
My opinion is mine alone,
And I shall carry it as my burden if need be.

He has no right to silence my thoughts,
Nor to propagate his empathy,
I do not need the propaganda,
Of regal, ceremonial cavalcades,
To emphasise my pride,
My heart is always openly displayed!