You tell me you are perfect.
Shining armour, title and all.
But you brilliance mitigates your brilliance.
Finish your own wars first.

Spend your time sharpening your swords
For some subsequent quarrel.
Do not kill it, instead,
In promising the last was the last;
For hatred, at least, is more honourable than lies.
Not more lovable, no! But then
Nothing is more lovable than hate.

Slay your demons,
Then search for mine.
If you succeed,
I will be slain already.
You give me answers
But I am your question.
What answer do you have to me?