The catacombs deep with disarray
Boulders of gold yeilding hope
Echo amongst the fallen souls before
The mines richs with dispare
Copper hearts diggin for golden veins
Kids forgotten within mens ambition
Forced to repeat repetition
Diamonds for richies, poor chlidren
In the midst of treasures
Only finding themselves stranded
Along the shores of a black sea
Darkness comes in waves
Oceans of halls, tunnel vision drowned
Sweat dripping brows creating mud in their wake
But the steel tips run a muck on the stones
second long stars chime with each swing
Finger painted skies: black
Moonless dusk, dawns always absent
Midnights with blackened ascent
Its a good day
The dirt rich with years, a soil of souls
THE trail blazers mark, pioneers of the dark
The cold steel warms the layers of echos
Soot drenched bellows howling across the maze
Haunting whistles wistfully woe cries of memories
Replaying the sounds of dancing ghost'
Miles of depth, miles wealthy of lives kept
Warn boots, dirt coiled cotton, black necks
Old hands, youthful hearts, discouraged souls
Disenchanted hope twinkles between the cuts of the rock
peasants molding royalty, slaves to a
thrown spewing coal covered rubies
Fingerprint smeared diamonds shining
Vanity's martyr, greed's all in bet
Gluttons to the starving youth
Stuffing their appetite with empty futures
A generation for a momentary glimmer
Copper hearts in search of a golden vein
Wolfs sheeping wool from the sheep
snakes hissing at the heels of diamond backs
Fartherless suns never set
Motherless nights nurture darkness
Endless caves flicker bitter brightness
Relfecting the sins of endless greed
Kids among the stars miles from heaven
Inches from the devils heel
Those fortunate relish in their fortune
While the furtunes of less fortunate
Die along the cuts of the jewelers accuracy
Rocks in the rough, paying those who seek ruin
Jewels for the lush, rust for the rest of us
Diamonds for your lust
All for a necklace connected to a status?
Cycling rhetorical solutions, endless consumer
Forever consuming the lives of a youth
Envy grips the hearts of men
To the point even chlidren become a means to an end....
...though whats an end without the intent?