I do believe this world is mine,
A realm of one—my butler and I.

My butler, not a servant, but a caretaker,
Equal to any man, as all men are.

No status, no wealth, no pride
He exists, helps, and devotes to his work
Committing no crime
Just as I am a man
Except I am all the things a ruler is
As nasty and cold as a man gets with a mountain full of gold
I think I cannot  grow frail and old
For what one calls a dream, divine,
Is but a slow demise of mine.
As for my caretaker, he shall be the wealthiest man who ever lived