Upon the tides of worldly news,
With ink and feathered quill we muse,
Of events near and far we spin,
A web of tales to sail entire kin.
In halls where children sing and play,
Lurk secrets that do lead astray,
The serpent’s hiss, a whisper charm,
To shield our kin from hazard's harm.
The trial of a leader bold,
On path of power, both new and old,
Through tempest, storm, and lightning's flash,
His tale unfoldeth, on empire's clash.
