centurion
• Written by wasp
i march through centuries with bloodstains on my greaves
your whole lineage kneels when my shadow scrapes their eaves
my sword dont dull it just gets hungrier with age
your shields splintered fore my footsteps shake the stage
the coliseum cheers as i decimate pretenders
your ancestors bones still rattle in my armors fenders
i speak in latin but the corpses scream translation
your bloodline tree got one root my domination
the sand remembers every throat ive slit barehanded
your gladiator style looks like childs play expanded
my chariot wheels grind rebel bones to pigment
your war cries sound like whimpers through my helmets filter
the senate fears me more than barbarian hordes
your emperors last decree was begging me for swords
i salt the earth with tears of widows and orphans
your history books just list my alternate titles
my army sleeps standing up in stone formations
your walls got my silhouette carved in their foundations
i drink from skulls that still whisper battle tactics
your war plans etched on parchment made from your captains skin
the crows follow my campaigns like mobile feasts
your medics crossbones mark where ive parked my beasts
i conquer time itself with each scar i accumulate
your stopwatches break trying to clock my movements
my phalanx moves with prisoners cemented inside
your arrows weep when they see my shields polished hide
the tortoise formation cracks only to swallow foes
your siege towers collapse just to form my stepping stones
i take forts by making their gates applaud my approach
your moats drain themselves when they taste my approaching torch
the barracks beds still scream where ive taken naps
your warhorses abort foals at the scent of my capes
the rubicon parted twice when i crossed it
your legions drown in sweat before ive even tossed it
my dagger collects more senate votes than ballots
your republic fell just to build my new palace
i march on rome just to hear the bricks tremble
your aqueducts run red when im near the temple
the vestal virgins sharpened my blades at midnight
your gods changed pantheons just to avoid my fistights
my borders expand every time i take breath
your maps curl at edges where ive marched past death
the hadrian wall rebuilt itself to keep me out
your londinium burns just to light my cigars
i time travel just to fight my younger self
your historians quit trying to track my wealth
the colosseum sand still thirsts for my enemys blood
your gladiator school just trains how to die politely
my bodyguards kill me daily just for practice
your assassins trip on their daggers when ive passed it
the palace guards bet on which hour ill snap
your conspirators meet in my dungeons by accident
i crucify poets who misquote my victories
your libraries burn just to keep my hands warm
the slaves polish my armor with their freedom papers
your rebellions get archived before theyre finished
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