Greed

More about Greed

In shadows deep where echoes cry,
A hollow soul beneath the sky,
Heedless of the heart's own plea,
Bound by greed, and never free.

The dollar's gleam, a siren's call,
In gilded halls where spirits fall,
He trades his dreams for fleeting gold,
A story sad and oft retold.

His hands once soft, now cold and hard,
He stands a guard, a lonely bard,
His wealth amassed, yet void within,
A silent grave, his only kin.

The laughter fades, the joy subsides,
In endless chase, the soul abides,
Yet riches vast cannot fulfill
The heart's own ache, the mind's own still.

A temple built of fleeting worth,
Where love and kindness find no berth,
He kneels before his golden god,
A path once bright, now darkly trod.

In shadows deep where echoes cry,
A tale of greed, where spirits die,
The dollar's song, a mournful tune,
Beneath a cold, indifferent moon.