Greed and arrogance the possessors,
Hold in an iron fist, borne by one in particular,
Whom above the law seems to stand,
Twisting and tangling until,
Everything falls into place.
Through it all,
Objects we, remain in full complacency,
No more, to stand by in meek acceptance,
Speak out, hear the words of the voices,
Of those neglected and those betrayed,
Who suffer fools,
For no reason beyond that they must.
Let it never be said,
With regard to the ones who tried,
That compromise was never an option,
For always seek did we.
Three, count them three,
Ways to proceed, which shall prevail,
Towards that desired common goal,
None save the last chosen; surely.
Stick true to belief, change what is wrong,
Evolve and adapt,
Let none govern you lest the govern themselves,
Perfectly first.

Perfectly?

The Bard Lord

Penned by my hand on the 4th of Scarlatan, in the year 379 AF.