Imperiate whispers, deceit's cruel weave,
A leader who darkened Cyrene's eve.
Neutral in guise, yet heart full of guile,
Plotting alliances all the while.

Words may blur, but actions stay,
His secrets brought the city's fray.
With treacherous heart and hidden lies,
He split the city, broke the ties.

Pages torn, yet stories told,
Of power grasped with fingers cold.
The worst Imperiate, history's curse,
A leader false, a reign perverse.

Flames may rise, consume the lore,
But his betrayal festers more.
False ally, false friend,
In infamy, his name won't end.

Worshiping treachery's blight,
The most notorious to plague our sight.
In Her image, he became what he revered,
A traitor whose name is forever smeared.

The heart of Cyrene, he couldn't claim,
But his deceit forever stains.
In every whisper, every lore,
His scandal lives, forevermore.

Penned by my hand on the 8th of Lupar, in the year 950 AF.