All Hail the Egotist

All hail the egotist
Mighty, self-centered, regal
Too angry and handsome to look down

Fists of fire
Feet of future
Stamping, trampling the hearts of the pacifists

It must be
It must be so cold on that throne
It must be
Me

His greatest works stem from solidarity
His masterpieces from the souls he swallows
The wondrous piece hangs not in his gallery

The Zeitgeist is cruel to him and 
His opposition
But as long as his heart festers
He will not break
His Hell will not forsake him

So he moves from spirit to dust
Never put in his place
Wouldst thou leave him so unsatisfied?

The black runs down
The skins are shed
The seasons pass
Day
Night
Day
Night

It is finished
Purgatory
Is such a sweet, grey place
That he will never touch