The Angel, Greed

The phantoms drift all through your mind,

And shadows dance 'pon you your spine.

While holy spirits howl in pain,

As Man usurps for his own gain.



The fallen angel births anew,

Tearing his way out to you.



He bows his head and sweeps your feet

And flattered,

You accept his greet.



"I am Greed,"

He states quite sweetly,

And you notice he discreetly,

Plants a seed upon your soul,

And you trust its to some vile goal.



"I live in all,

He states in elg'nt way,

And lead my own from death's decay"



"But live forever I cannot?"

You ask, hoping that he'll be caught,

Within your clever, well-played scheme.



"Alas,"

He says, b'ginning to beam.

"While I might preserve your being,

Your death, indeed is not my seeing."



Your eyes go deaf, your tongue goes numb,

And Greed gently pricks you 'pon the thumb.

"You can't escape, only postpone,"

And you understand just by his tone,

That you will never be alone.

Always behind, seeking your trust,

A gallant phantom stalks in dusk.



"You'll die both ways, my dear," Greed hisses,

"Howev'r, I'll rot a valiant missus."

And with a frown he turns away.

"The rich are far a simpl'r prey!"