The horse who has deaf otoliths.
A man whose tailor is in vogue
Slow talker, silence be leading
More questions, answers be seeking,
some feared allies think he’s a bogue.
Perhaps, a mountain made by chance,
only years to make myths in debts.
Stan Lee mistook marvel thout’ you.
You lead our mummy’s meet their end.
You used brooms to sweep our problems
brought hell and called it king’s landing.
Seized our lands so cows be grazing,
I hope they sing their great anthems
The former soldier with death’s pouch.