Author Information
Wealth.
Up in my ivory tower, I have all the power, down below, I see nothing but the cold of poverty, the bite of bitter snow.
Nobody shall ever know, the pain of trudging through that snow, the warmth and promise of that distant golden glow.
In my dreams I saw it there, a lavish life without a care, no want or desperate need, up high I can ever feed.
No more fear up high in here, I look down at the suffering with a pitiful leer, and enjoy my hard earned with a greatful cheer.
Free from life and above all the strife, away from the murder the unsafety and knife, way up high protected with a wife.
A rising anger bubbles in the deep, I must never fall for it shall be steep, the revolutionaries command them like sheep.
Upon my fortress in the clouds, my venomous defences hide behind shrouds, a system built for me and the like, the fools below will fall to our pike.
Here I sit in my keep, preparing to earn my keep, I find myself in conflict again, clashing against my fellow men.
Burning, bashing, nothing but smashing, they storm my manor, brutish and ill mannered, they take my head, this illusion I lived... Dying in my bed.
