COOLYMPUS.

Atop of throne, he calmly waits.
For those involved, to learn their fates.
His hair is perfect, and to the picture.
His shades are T’d, and mentioned in scripture.

His grin is wide, and full of cheer.
His eyes are red, and full of fear.
It’s not because, the task proves tall.
But because, his stash grows small.

Soon the ladder, will be climbed.
Who’d have thought this whole thing rhymed?
One by one, his feet shall rise.
Rung after rung, until reaching the skies.

And when he’s there, he will not waver.
He won’t smell the roses, or take in a savor.
He’ll do the feat, he came to do.
He’ll take back what’s his, and what he already knew.

And after taking back, what’s been on display.
And the ring is his, again he will say.
Those who doubt, are but a fool.
The Defiance World Champion, still be KING COOL.

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