While playing with silver and gold

While playing with silver and gold,

I found no hope,


But I did struck upon a new shore,

Where I understood the coins lore,

There is no hope.


The mighty rich told me not,

Lost were their sense and their souls rot,

Hope raped in thoughts.


Sunk in treasures I deep,

Came out of them merely,

But so did I without any greed,

Difficult it is for others to see,

I found no hope for you in me.


The clinging coins told me more,

They told me all the gold is sold,

To the devil and his whores,

They have now all the hope,

Only if you see that as hope,

All is not lost but found is yet none,

Hope rest calmly with the hopeless,

I have found neither, hope or its whore.


Heavens do explode with its lore,

But so does Hell along these shores,

There is less hope.


Dimes of mine are weapons prime,

One heavier than the other,

Killed you are without a crime,

No rhythm no rhyme; shiny coins of mine,

Reasons are not given for reasons are not needed,

They let it happen, weep but they still sleep,

There is no hope.


Sitting with the dragon at his lair,

My soul resting in his care,

I see the treasure that we both share,

Bloody rivers we swam for it,

Defied all sense we did for it,

And so as I play with silver and gold,

I find all but hope.




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