In thee rych stylings of master lucifer

Staple your passion to your chest
Let your self be your gun
Let emotion be your crest
Let your logic be your sun

Show me, man, Good and Evil
And I'll show you childhood games
Find me wisdom from your Gods
And I'll wink your pearls to flames

All Men are ALIVE
-and there's malice in that term-
Forever blinded, true from false
Forever doomed to yearn

So staple Cruelty to your chest
Make Arrogance your gun
Let Evil be your best
And Malice be your fun

this poem has way too much punctuation

dumb it down a touch so it's readable by us masses

i had forgotten the old dock worker demographic again, hadn't i