A degeneration

titles ya know

There once lay a child

Whose soul was so finely crafted

Of mighty Iron and Insolence.

Born to be King, 

He soared through wars, light Winged,

And diplomacy Flowed in his veins

As he aged,

The Metal of his Soul began to decay,

He no longer desired to rule

For the Gods had crafted him

In model of the greatest heroes,

And so in the End;

His Soul, tracked through the years

Was simply of

Gnarled Rust and Indolence.

Author's Note

please be brutally honest