The giant grew lonely (as tyrants become)
massaging his minions beneath a cold thumb
he thought he was crafty (as sharp as a nail)
but age dulled his senses which started to fail
while watching his kingdom (as feeble types will)
disintegrate into a cesspool of swill
he desperately gambled (as value decreased)
by trying to sell to the Lords of The East.
Are You Reading Me?
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