The Glass Tower Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

He stood atop the polished spire,
With digital gold and hearts for hire.
He signed the scripts with a silver pen,
And built his world on the backs of men.

'Behold my reach! ' the mogul cried,
With 'books and degrees' to mask the lied.
But the 'gilded life' is a brittle thing,
When the law returns the stones you fling.

The ticker stops; the screens go grey,
As 'justice blind' comes for her pay.
The marble halls now cold and vast,
Are choked by shadows of the past.

Like desert sands on a king's domain,
The truth erodes the corporate name.
For whether crown or tailored suit,
The tree must fall with rotten fruit.

T.M.Solvang
(created in collaboration with AI.)