by pete marshall
Entice the will that rules the mind
as spoils gleam through tarnished eyes
for all that glitters, hope wants gold
where from the depths their greed will rise
on bodies crushed beneath their perch
a force that hides its fearfulness,
empowers rage to rear itself,
to smite the meek who they possess.
No more the kin of bonds that tie
as price will pay their chosen whim
then chew the fat of those who fail
to feel the charge that flows within.
Tempers fall on weakened pawns
when bile thrusts its brooding glare,
pennies sent from heavens purse
will line the streets of those who dare
for powers rage is Satan’s curse
hid beyond their strengthened walls,
a conscience hemmed and lost to greed
that beats the weak and shits on fools.
image courtesy creative commons flikr http://www.flickr.com/photos/schipulites/