“ Merchant of Greed ” ~ the gods did fashion ~

On day six

The gods did fashion

A creature thick

They labelled man,

Save on day seven

Concept was panned,

As but a failed trick,

And forced to confess

‘Twas their worst yet,

This lowest living form

The world would get,  

And gods coined human …

 

Thus without a soul

Ingredient main

In held man’s role,

Ideated in its stead

Implanting greed

To complete its head,

Yet would err apart,

By the omit of a heart…

 

Hence till all be dust

This fashioned man,

Be a merchant of greed

Who’d forever fuss,

To feed an inexorable lust!

                                                  

                                              ~ a cry for woman to usurp,

                                                         considering man’s record ~

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“ A Failed World ” ~ by greedy design ~

 

I see images

Of inimicalness,

Worrying

With purpose,

Of goading

Submissions

From humans

Too worn,

Exuding despair

Exacted upon

By greedy design,

In a situate

Beyond unkind,

While exploiting

Denies insouciant,

As they shape

Fellowman’s fate,

To thus so fit

A callous world pit,

Leaving behind                                            

Obscured of hope

Beings of a kind,

Who shan’t survive

In a failed world

All but gone blind,

To bankers and brokers

And political jokers,

With their greedy designs!

 

“ The Enterprise ” ~ our untimely grave ~

I saw sun set

And see it yet,

Rise on the seas

That kept afloat

The enterprise,

I have been told

Meant keep alive,

Man ever bold

Who navigates

Without a soul,

Giant waves

That carries fate

In a ship’s hold,             

That blackish gold

Destined contaminate

Mankind whole,

The while helpless

In mind and soul,

We watch man dig

Our untimely grave!

 

“ Powering Greed ” ~ living sty high ~

 

Man ought live

To ameliorate

The human lot,

If but to give

Before his greed

Exceeds his need,

Which to attain

Must finds to rule

Those disinclined,

And well beyond

The silent blind,

Schemes deeds

Meant to amass 

All he could don,

The while aligns

To fashion seed

For  payola feed,

Claim fellow troughers

Who live sty high,

Off corporate coffers,

Powering greed!                       

                                                                                  ode to failed

                                                                           golden parachutists