Too rich, enriched, in love with Moon.
Over the horizon, the Sun that looms.
In which, he loves, her heart then aligns.
The crown on his head is a good disguise.
The horn so loud, the congregation then sits.
A dark fire like warrior, his intent is legit.
Stalking his prey, the blade that mauls.
No witnesses were around, no one that saw.
In which, he falls, to the ground, the floor.
His God is Satan, including the w(Hor)e.
Everything for sure, the smoke is loud.
A God that is willing to let everyone down.
Lost then found, his hearts beats hard.
His wit is fast, at the same speed of a car.
19 mile per hour, the once like Star.
His home is Draco, Thuban from a far.
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