Quatrain Of Suppiluliumas I Poem by Yorktown Disciple

(Egyptian King - 1380 - BC)



From sacrosanct immunity, to pharisaical
assumptions, the insatiable longing for
divine governance pulls on the ego
until pity drips from stretched pain.

Binding sin as though it were bundles
of wheat, shaking the stems of immorality
until only chaff piles up on the ground,
where greedy men cry from starvation.

With sword in hand, the task of striking
down inviable rivals dropp from decisive will;
success is obtained from gathering followers
who are willing to perish in vain.

Mercy for few, greatness reigns, and when
the sun has set, the life of another fiend will
work the King's harvest until the most
worthless among us decay from evil temptation.