Wealth of pelf
A step is walked and stridden hard,
Sailing against the tides of every evil smart.
Every drop of blood is spilt only to live,
Each smile is earned till its last jive.
On the other is there a silly hand,
Drawing out for dark coins with a sly wand.
Sailing in the blood of innocents crust,
Leaving the poor dying of a hunger and thirst .
What do you get by these callous smiles,
When they don even last half a mile.
After all, the tearful wealth is used as a lure,
For means of such so impure.
The curses of the good dead never lives in vain,
For every drop dripped shall render into pain.
Today filth of dark coins fill the shelf,
One day a marauder will kill this wealth of pelf.