"A man who can't be bribed, can't be trusted"

Ghouls creep in and out of Mammon's towers,
Where gargoyles pick through lesser daemon's bones,
The jester placates while assistants cower,
wondering whom will succeed the bloody throne.
Divided the subjects stand and so shall they fall,
While alliances shift like sand in the wind,
Masks turn to see who is not amongst them...
Are we hiding in plain sight so other's will know;
"What you reap so shall you sew."
Crooked fingers always pointing toward the hardest toiling amongst 'em~~
A trapdoor littered with bones below.

Magi listening for Mammon's flow,
Leaping to other banks when embankments seem more sure,
Who we think are friends, maybe never were.
Those who moil for truths inside them,
Hold the aces close to their chest,
Ready to sacrifice themselves before the altar--
Veracity called the hero's quest.
The fate that awaits them maybe cold...
Lies will fly from every wyrm,
But only with a heart of gold, will they ask for nothing (in return)...
You can try to put them in a trick bag
But they will turn it back on those who lied.
A spine of steel whittled and time tested,
Lo, a man who can't be bribed, is the only man who can be trusted.
That is how true friendship is discerned.
Service is our greatest honor,
Covering each other's backs throughout the term.

June 2008