Miscellaneous

Dominion

The world is his

In all its worthless splendour

And prosperity that dulls with time

Or crumbles to dust...

Nothing lasts forever.

He holds tight his riches

His lands, castles, slaves, people

All for his empty pleasure.

Never enough fame, never enough wealth, never enough power,

Abundance leaves him in want.

"I'll never die," he says. "Today I store up. Tomorrow I feast."

And when shall that fated morrow come?

Tomorrow is another today - another day to hoard.

Food for his eyes,

Famine for his soul.

The vaults are laden, coffers full

The treasuries' floors made of gold

The tombs run with rivers silver

The halls' watchers are guards of bronze.

All for vanity's pretty face and ugly soul.

He gazes upon his hoard

So vast, yet unable to fill such a tiny heart.

Emptiness hits him with a pang of regret

Quick, quick - add more coin to the mountain!

Perhaps that endless void shall be satisfied.

A most worthless eternity

A shadow of Heaven

Where thieves plunder

And moths destroy.

So he drags his wretched life to the grave.