Those humble servants, Thee monsters of greed. Gold be the devil, thee servants Be the observant, shiners and polishers. What stone is to be prized without The likeliness of cowards and the ill. Take yer own sword and use your own might, Fight, the evil and carve your own. No writing deserves its presence under Shiny light. All those who deem it, Deem nothing but a thought. Of just man and none more Then a scam. Promise me this will change. Liars shall be no kings.