Welcome to the homepage of Robert Trotman.

In ages past the blood would last and anger filled our souls.  Hatred ran as cold as ice and filled our very bones.  We pitied none and loved no one as we slaughtered our very kin.  We were called barbarians not men but who is the barbarian again.  We butchered men you butcher animals the weak and unworthy.  We slaughtered those that fought and stood strong and took our prizes with great glory.  You butcher and kill those that cower and hide those that run instead of fight.  So whose the barbarian us or you those men of the past that stood on their truth or those that hide behind their lies.  Who is the barbarian not I but the man of today is the barbarian in my eyes afraid to see his opponent die.  Why do you ask Ill tell you why his afraid to see himself die in the dryings eyes.  The man of today hides behind a gun hides behind his false power I prefer my sword and arm for that is my true power.  For ages past we have survived in what is true and strong in children's dreams and in many things we shall always live on...