who's in charge?
this man, pacing
on a parapet, 
having the greatest view
of the village, every one
can see his visage,
he's bloodied from
attacks, has had his arm
in a sling, oh what a shame
he's lazy, or busy, either/or

the city looms below
as below, is above
their suspects are long
fire breathe intensifies
their thoughts of their leader
he's scared and brought in
strangers, that unsacred man