White Rider

White Rider, come, and bring your peace
Upon the walshen shores of Greece...
King of Grecia, awesome King;
Named "Sin", that is your name oh King,
And upon your horse will you bring 
Such peace, pleasant sex, computers
Shall make perfect obsequious 
Loves, to the rules of your great day.
The men, with the Glasses, shall feel
They shall eat, taste, touch, smell, hear, see,
And shall have beauties 'pon beauties
In their pornography, for them 
To touch. They shall have all things in
Their domain, adventures, and games
Wars with no suffering, but play
They will, with robotic maids made
To do their chores, so enslaved, no work
Is done, but they like a rat on
A spinning wheel will be pleased. Pleased!
Until the great suffering comes;
Which you, Greek Rider, had thus made.