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  >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Fantasy >> ID #1843908  |   Show DetailsPrinter Friendly Page Tell A Friend
Vile Rod
There is a place where I am God, and this place is called my mind.
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With denotations of divine wrath...
His vile rod strikes the land.

Cities soon sprout from his magic oil,
Then come people and thoughts.

What shall be done next?
With a word, anything he wishes becomes true.

Love and romance?
No, war and turmoil.

Everything is in his hands now,
Everything must bend to his will.

He lets out a curse;
And bends down to pick up his pen.
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