Song Of Ravana Poem by Jordan St. Stier

I am the king of a kingdom sparse
Where the devil stoops and demons dance
And temperance sleeps in a drunken trance-
And I am the King, and I am the King

My giant brethren mock and enthrone
Woe and fear on Vishnu's bones
Which I happen to claim I own-
For I am the King, long live the King

I enslave the churchmouse and whip the fool
And take from my harem, the one whom I choose
For come Sitā, in her rags, I need some substitute
To favor the King, I am the King

I, Ravān and Raksasas, armed
We shall advance, we do no harm
To the great sages great alarm-
For I am the King, the harmless king

We lap up the blood from the foaming corpse
And Khār trumpets from a horn so hoarse
That mortals shriek out in remorse
"Hail to the King! " who knows no remorse

And Yām is forced with a finger's flick
To rid of the foe, much to our trick
And those brothers of mine, are so foolishly thick-
For the brothers of the King, are not the King

Into Surya's sun we ride
With death and destruction riding beside
The funeral procession for the ones who hide
From the King, and I am the King

And Rama, his silly bow knows not
Of the thousand arrows I have shot
Into the heart of a whiny snot-
Who defied the King, I am the King

The forest mendicant monks do tell
A tale in which I go to Hell
But I'll be there sooner than a leaking well-
For the penitent king, might be me, the King

Now reader, alarmed you may be, so fine
I do not care what you take of my time
For I could take yours with a lone bell's chime-
That tolls for me, for I am the King

And into Surya's sun we ride
With death and destruction riding beside
And I might as well enjoy the people's chides-
For the King is I, and I am the King

And as the devil himself, of me does sing
"I am the King, I, Ravān, am the king".