Vainglorious

Touched by time, life feels moved
Grooves form on the blightless skin
It's strong and firm but not improved
Yet in the scars there can be found kin

It was tried yet craving for more
Through the suspicions unjustified
That something wicked has come to bore
A hole in the crevices of its hide

But in the wake of the storm
The slaughter soon took form
A soul stripped of its sacred hold
And it trips, it kneels, ready to fold

No illness came to bring it low
But mere vainglorious pride
From inward sprung the blow
Whole it was consumed by the tide

Molded by the defeat it remains
Unshackled from its own mistake
The cunning its mind retains
Knows it'll bend rather than break

Newfound will hunts the halls, humble
And it would rather cry than crumble
Vainglorious no longer, simply content
It has conquered might through torment