The centaur—
Protector of the center—
Owns the heart
Of the galaxy

We roam with gallantry,
Yet warrior infantry
Is our defining mentality

Our appearance represents
Intense duality,
Physical competence,
Complete totality—
A keen mind, and a clean conscience

The first burst of our bow
Springs defense
With multiple arrows in tow
Medusa cements
And all of fallacy
Falls rapidly
Like the fierce tears
Of pierced demons,
Severely bleeding,
Barely breathing,
Their cries call out from the perimeter
To the centaur of war
Sounding sincere,
But we simply ignore,
Refusing to hear,
Safe on our throne at home at the core,
Always near
The savior of love,
We are the overseer,
Above,
Never the naive appeaser
Who gives mercy and sympathy to evil—
Inferior evil, gimpy with pain, and fear—
We aim and kill
What threatens the heavens
To leaven the playing field
And instill future blessings
In life as it builds
Toward god’s guild
Ultimately coalescing
With a destiny fulfilled.