O Monarchs,
how ye fell
Fallen upon thy dulled swords; clashed against that steely hell
The end of the Old Europa, lite by a tiny spark
A dreary end to those manly values are a snipers bullet finding its mark
Disorders erupt with passions unleashed
the mob that you cannot quell
Of your actions an unforgiving tale time will live to tell
Spoken in derision; realized with scorn
that all who unsheathed daggers will plunge them long in their own hearts
