The System Of The Beast Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A time will come, the stories say,
When one great power holds its sway.
No one can trade, no one can buy,
Unless a mark is on them nigh.

This mark, it goes on hand or head,
Without it, life is filled with dread.
No food to eat, no clothes to wear,
Just empty pockets, deep despair.

A mighty leader, strong and grand,
Rules every nation, every land.
His armies march, his word is law,
He makes the people bend and draw.

And more than power, this one demands,
That all will worship at his hands.
He builds an image, grand and tall,
And forces worship, one and all.

Some say this power, it was then,
In Roman times, with cruelest men.
A king named Nero, it is thought,
Whose name, in numbers, was a lot.

But others watch the world today,
And see these signs along the way.
A system growing, strong and wide,
Where all must follow, or be denied.