The rage that's in me is hard to describe.
Welling up, it roars inside, and whispers
softly in my ear, " to think's a common
innocent deed, the act of cowards, of fools
Of folly, to act's a different sort of thing,
a major step, a greater pact, 'tween you
and the devil down below. Act I say, and
take the prize, **** for glory, **** for greed,
take you what is rightfully yours, and
claim her hand forevermore."
