by Nick Gisburne
No life is ever precious. Rich men bleed
The wishes of the weakest, long and late.
In secret, some are critical of greed,
Yet whisper nothing more than hollow hate.
If you could steal the energy, the thrill,
Of all the ruthless avarice of man,
And with it build a city, on a hill,
Your sight would sense the poison of the plan.
This world was never destined to be free.
The promise of tomorrow is a lie.
You cannot change the face of what you see.
Submit. Surrender. Never wonder why.
Corruption sends no solace, only spite.
Expect no peace, no profit, if you fight.
