Musashi

I arose from my throne in the shadows of coming comets

Amid colosseum columns of stone, the lone prophet

I kick tones, eroding the tectonics

Noble sensei, techniques encoded in psionics

My katana composed of honed onyx

In my mind it's obsidian, glowing through blown chronic

Bionic adamantium bones, electronics

And a cerebellum home to adrenochrome tonic

And my soliloquy's sick, the raw liquidity drips

The laced lips with the taste of the bubonic

The most luscious of my touchstone sonnets

Even King Tutankhamun couldn't be reached for comment