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.