The calm does bring a sudden clear reflection,
Destruction in your wake for all to see,
The tune you played to march to has us broken,
When tides do turn, look not to fault our glee.

To rise or not rise up may be the question,
To stand up and be counted, once for all,
Your reign on high’s demise is nigh, Almighty
One not chosen. Foundations crumble, fall.

Success you strive, the prize ...

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I try, try, try as I might,
But every time I use a semi-colon;
There's a 10% chance of it being right. 

(How did I do?)

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It has gone six, come on, the day
awaits, we’re not yet dead.
The world out there can wait, you say,
life’s here, with me, in bed.

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