A Timely Death

All things come and go, their presence precarious at best

Legacies worn down over time's pounding rain unending

Blood flows from appendages to the heart, money from the rest

The best and brightest toil in ever smaller spaces fending.

Death by paper cuts, empty paragraphs weigh heavily

To match the empty souls toiling in their misery

Common sense washes out like the tide

Leaving only ripples of sand as a guide.

At first lost faith, then confidence then respect

Twilight turns to night, the predators begin to cry

Speaking half truths, to counter those speaking lies

Though no truth is spoken, mostly through neglect.

Advantage will be taken by those who know better

Some will fight back, through the pen and dead letters

None will shed his blood for the safety of a nation

All will reap the rewards of our damnation.

How did this all happen will be spoken day by day

Avarice of course, but none will speak that word

The culpable is us, the guilty parties, the herd

Once a healthy host, our legacy frittered away.  

All things are fragile, and the fragile meets the fool

A generation suffers, another builds another rules

Ashes in their mouths, burnt paper, and upheaval

The rulers become peasants, their legacy medieval.  

All we had to do was mind a store we never built

Not feeling the bricks in our hands, not feeling guilt

More and more money taken from the register

So careless, so reckless, our death is quite timely.