It's in words, my masters' glory
Yet many think it's just a story
Inherit I, the sins of man
It's all a part of my masters' plan
To get the things I think I need
I'll cultivate the serpents seed
Caligula, the king of mayhem
Seek the good man, go and slay him
****, and ******, endless plunder
The righteous frown, they start to wonder
Is He there? Faith can weaken
That's the dark mans' flashing beacon
He works magic through the winds
Do you wonder how the madness ends?
It's in words, my masters' glory
Yet many think it's just a story
I wrote this poem about 30 years ago, and had not thought about it for some time. I walked into my bedroom today and picked up a piece of paper on the floor, and it was this poem. That's pretty weird.