Tainted Gold Poem by Courtney Melville
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Tainted Gold
Beneath the setting sun
painted in warmth of kings, lust blurs the lines.
With glinting eyes you search
for that worth a thousand souls
The need grows inside, steadily building.
Trust turns to unease.
Love turns to hate.
Surrounded by empty grandeur
all else ceases to exist.
The world around spins down, down, down
Into the depths of greed.
Sunday, January 22, 2012
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4/25/2024 6:24:03 PM # 1.0.0.1119
