The world is my slayground, I want nothing more.
With swiftness of foot I shall open to you the door.
Come right on in and I'll show you around.
Your end will come swiftly but you won't hear a sound.
Extending my invitations to the "gullible" and the "smart".
For the ruination of man I've always done my part.
This world is full of "jugglers" tossing "meat cleavers and knives".
I add intoxication to their already complex lives.
Being the first "salesman" when the world was quite new;
I practiced the art of deception and sold death to the first two.
I have been called many things yet none of them are good.
Still my advocates promote that I have always been misunderstood.
My trail of destruction is endlessly long.
Each victim suffers differently yet they "sing the same song".
All wanderers of the wasteland and bearers of pain.
Each victims of my wrath, every outcome the same.
The world is my dwelling, my slayground domain.
Logic can't save the world from one who is insane.
I tighten my grip on the resistant ones;
I won't have anyone ruining my fun.
Of all the weights that I hurl in your path;
Death is the heaviest so I save it for last.


Poem copyrighted by Bo Bandy.

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