The Price of Greed

 

In a world where dreams are spun like gold,

Lies a longing deep, a tale untold,

Of hearts that seek not riches to behold,

But the empty promise greed can hold.

With every coin that clinks and shines,

A shadow grows where light declines,

Among the whispers of velvet nights,

The price of greed unfolds in sights.

The merchant stands with open palms,

Enticing souls with fanciful psalms,

“Just one more deal, and you will see,

The world will bend all bows to thee.”

Yet known too late, the truth will peep,

In folly’s grasp, the heart will weep,

For fortune’s smile can quickly fade,

Leaving naught but fears in its parade.

Families torn by hunger’s grip,

While fingers reach for the endless trip,

To grasp the stars, the moonlight’s grace,

Blindly ignoring the human race.

As mountains turned to castle walls,

The greed within the mighty falls,

Desires fester in haunted dreams,

And laughter, once bright, now barely gleams.

In shadowed alleys, lamps aglow,

Where innocence is bought and sold,

A painted smile, a hollow gaze,

Lost in the maze of desperate days.

For fleeting pleasure, cheaply bought,

A soul’s true worth, reduced to naught.

From amber liquid, solace sought,

A temporary peace is wrought,

But chains of habit bind the soul,

As fortunes vanish, lose control.

The gilded bottle, smooth and deep,

Holds bitter tears for those who weep.

The lender's ledger, cold and stark,

A noose that tightens in the dark,

With interest spiraling to the sky,

A final hope, that fades to die.

Pledging futures, dreams, and land,

To avarice, with trembling hand.

In boardrooms hushed, where deals are made,

And human lives, a profit trade,

The bottom line, a sacred creed,

Ignoring every human need.

From labor crushed to resources bled,

On empty promises, futures fed.

What of the lands where no tree grows,

Where rivers dry, and the wind just blows?

Beneath the weight of avarice deep,

Lies the promise we forgot to keep.

But still, the cycle spins its web,

With each new dawn, the same old ebb,

And while the wise may tread with care,

The lure of gold pulls in the unaware.

Yet nature whispers in the breeze,

A gentle plea among the trees,

"Look not to riches nor worldly fame,

For love and kindness are the flame."

So ponder well, dear traveler bold,

What treasures lie in what you hold.

For in the heart, true wealth will grow,

And there you’ll find what greed won’t show.

The price of greed is steep and high,

It may bring you low, though promises fly;

Choose wisely then, let your heart lead,

For love is the harvest, not the seed