Heart of a Lion

He had the heart of a lion
And his people loved him,
Though he paid them little mind
And bled them dry.
He made war for war's sake,
Bloody and Holy,
And beautifully cruel.

His kingdom he ignored
And left in the hands of his mother,
Wicked brother,
And nameless clergy.
His only interest was gold
To fuel the fire of his wrath
Against the infidel,
The heretic,
The barbaric Muslim horde.
He sold our souls for his glory
And we loved him.

The Lion died as he lived,
Far from a home
He would not call home,
In fruitless fight
For foolish glory.
A stray bolt caught him
In regal prance
As he flaunted his crown
Before the foe.

The Lion died
Not for his people
Or for his God.
He died for his vanity
But we still love him.