The Iniquities of the Age,
And the Barbarity of Yore
All sprout the same black gore.
The avarice that piled coins high
At the point of bloodied blade
Today sees sums in bank accounts
Rise in high surreal amounts.
How to explain the riches of today
If not as a parade of terror,
Oppression, destruction,
And pain
That makes our evil plain?
Across the world and in plain sight,
A testament to greed's blind might,
Spreads the wreckage of the poor,
The hapless living near the lure
Of the beast of gold in sundry forms,
A monster feeding worms.
Burning towns, piles of corpses,
And bullet-ridden cattle,
The cries of women raped,
And wailing children
End another wicked battle.
Petroleum, uranium,
Gold, silver, iron ore,
Futures and stocks, too -
All produced by the same gore.
The malice that in ancient times
Raised marauding armies,
And the contempt that in our time
Loosed financial ruin -
The mythic despot and the banker
Share that timeless heartbeat,
The drum that beats the dirge
Of the planet's strongest scourge.
