Men of Greed

A ship sailing on a steady ocean,
heavy metals gleaming black
by the light in bough of the thing,
sinks poorly with much screaming.

Except for the treasures
that bury the sailors,
God's wind had carried them.
A distant docks' lariats
pulled their chariot
o're the breakers,

---

but offward cut the troubled men,
their lust to o'retaking,
which freed to law of sea
they saw that freed-to-law succame them.

Anon: the sounds of deep to deep,
the only breathes there those of greed.
Of money, metal, boards and sail,
of wreckages amidst the gale,
of gasping water, tears, and air,
of knowing well departed sails
that forward pushing, pulling swells
the heart so free from cares
upon the ocean streets...

Of these things, now, there was release.

And release,
release inspired the sailors to sleep.
And these are theirs, the calls to deep,
"Release, unto our sinking fleet.
Release, wake come, keep us from sleep!!"
and upward went the bubbled pleas
to pops atop the water.

And upward went the silent dreams
of lustful men in silent screams
as pops atop the water,
"Sovereign, in poverty,
pray Thee not this course.
Allow for us Jonah's impoverished remorse!"

The pops atop the water,
"Relent of this. Redeem!
And soberly, for love, repent of us.
Nay, will penitence.
And let no deadly Devil the benefits!
Yea, and e'en will breath.
Oh this, and see our change unto beneficence."

And these were theirs, the last of pops
before they stopped the sailors
evermore as those atop the water,
"Yes, sempre a chorus
of Sirens for us.
Yes, we will out do them."

.Pop ..pop. ...