It’s the way he towers over her shoulder, watching her phone

It’s like he’s on a throne

That he doesn’t own

A ruling clone

Of all his ancestors

It’s made of metal, unmovable, cold as ice

It’s a one in a million chance, a toss of a dice

But does he realize the price?

The price of his greed

The cost of the deed

Even the gods in the heavens decreed

That this man is trouble

His heir line will crumble

When, in a few years,

he’ll take such a tumble

That he can’t get back

& any friends he lacks

Will make his kingdom crack

I’m sure of that

His crown becomes dust

His empire rusts

He thought he could trust

For who he lusts

He’s evil, you see

Dead cold & pure breed

He shouldn’t be the one to lead.