For once I didn’t kiss the ring 
Or add a tribute to the pile 
I gave fire and cordite 
When I spoke my true name 

On this day, at long last
I wore my loudest colors 
Standing tall on my turf 
Planted firm in its soil

The faint pulses of regret 
Fighting under my skin 
Will slowly calm with each step
Further away from the throne

While the cold sheen of fate 
Looms above, razor sharp
Waiting for the fatal plunge 
Into a faithless whisper