Rotten Riches, Broken world

04/05/2025
Rotten Riches, Broken World... 
 
Rust in the air, greed in the ground, 
Hands clutch their gold, afraid to drown. 
History repeats, towers still rise, 
Built on the backs of a thousand lies. 

Gold-dripping fingers choke the starving hands, 
Smiling wolves feed on dying lands. 
They stack their riches, high and proud, 
While the weary walk through dust unbound. 

Marching blind on hollow streets, 
Echoes swallowed, voices weak. 
Paper chains, locked up tight, 
The world turns, but never right.
 
Money is the sun that blinds the sky, 
The puppet strings, the whispered lie. 
Not the moon, not the rolling tide, 
Just greedy hands and hollow pride. 

The government spins its rusted wheel, 
Pushing pawns with polished steel. 
Stamp the poor, feed the war, 
Take the scraps, then steal more. 

Kings with paper crowns, blood-stained trade, 
Their hollow thrones built on bones decayed. 
Smiles crack, their hands shake tight, 
Clutching power, fearing night. 

Windows shatter, but no one hears, 
Justice drowned beneath the years. 
Echoes lost, the voices gone, 
The world moves on—but all is wrong. 

Spin the wheel, shuffle the names, 
Different hands, but the game stays the same. 
Laws get sold, truth gets burned, 
No matter who rules, the cycle returns. 

Cities crumble, rivers dry, 
Names carved deep, but still they lie. 
The ghosts scream loud, but the earth won’t care, 
Profit still reigns, hands still tear.
Uptight tyrants, paper-thin souls, 
Drenched in power but rotten whole. 
Dollars scream, humanity fades, 
Trapped inside their golden cage! 

Money is the sun that blinds the sky, 
The puppet strings, the whispered lie. 
Not the moon, not the rolling tide, 
Just greedy hands and hollow pride. 

And when it burns, what’s left behind? 
Ashes of empires, promises blind. 
The weight of greed will crush them whole, 
But the world still turns, and we play their role.