Golden Men

From high astride
Their pinnacle of phallic pride,
Inside gilded towers,
Golden men, garish in their impotence,
Bejeweled in greed, are gazing down
Upon the facile light of symbiotic cityscape
Over which they claim a phantom power.

Silent kings ascending
Souls are never ending
Love becomes your tool
To obviate the fool

The clink of crystal glass is heard
Inside the limpid lairs of lust they share,
Alone, beyond the brutal terminus of life;
Teutonic titans of temerity and loss.

Silent kings ascending
Souls are never ending
Love becomes your tool
To obviate the fool

While gazing down with penthouse pallor,
Their eyes observe a damp and tattered man
Who lies alone and cold within the gutter.
They feel a surging high received
As they reject, in obvious disgust,
This ragged, dying man, face down,
Immersed in filth and quiet memories.

Silent kings ascending
Souls are never ending
Love becomes your tool
To obviate the fool