Sonnet for Superior Man

I am king, he said, of all I survey
minions bow at my feet and do as I say.
I was born to be a superior man
granted ascendancy by my secret clan,
I’ll always have plans set to go my way
never be relegated to an also ran.
A self made man worships his creator
In the play of life he’s his biggest fan
Worshipping in egocentric idolatry
His principles panned in favour of pay
He’ll wrest back his soul at a later day.
Often death creeps up, I’m sure you’ll agree,
Surprising men early, yet too late to see,
Heaven’s door locked and they haven’t the key.