Everything Is At The Markets

What is the price for a boy’s greed

Bargain for the poor man’s soul

So he can have a star in the vast sky.

How worn out. Looking to clot his bleed

words of the rambler. 

Life’s blade cuts until dull

Finds himself at crossroads of choice

The world stands still among the madness

The Devil’s magistrate beckoning him on with an angel’s voice 

A world for the pockets

The madman sees what he sees

A heart for the chest 

Only time will have you choke out your new lease

Something will no longer belong?

A mind for the philosopher 

On the shelf will be his song

Deal he mutters

Thought references my Wonder

Meet my desires.

I envy knowledge for my own destiny

Let me gaze into the fire

Cradled between the mountains of eternity

Logic’s conceptions -no need to grieve

The world no longer speaks for me

Is it all what it seems?

What can be put to the executioner’s blade and be blamed?

can I conceive the belief that I am capable of sight 

Is this why I walk the trial of time?

A leaf caught in the wind- a hostage flown off like a kite

The world will swear it isn’t in shame.

As for my soul it is held over the flame