A Servant

What was denied from poor

I thought to be riches

I run for them there and then

It made me take my due

To death I'd plunge with joy

My happiness to claim

I am prepared to face the war

Under the black soil



I'm righteous if I so desire

Until I reveal my worth

And take to myself

What was denied from me

I stalked them in their celebrations

I delved into the words

I aimed at the highest of the high

And decided it's mine to take



Wont to crawl I was

To cringe and fawn

A servant on hours of day

But a holder of nocturnal sway



What was denied from poor

I thought to be love

I run for it here and now

It makes me take my due