Robber Barons

Robber Barons

Oilwell fountains

Run black gold red

Back broken cities

All laid out

Landscaped bloodlines

Telegraph poles

Drunk on power

Barely standing upright

Fallen cables

Sparking in the pools

Too many souls

Knowing nothing more

Of life

Than death

Stalking in shadow

Rummaging through empty buildings.

Dust filled bowls

Grave shaped holes

Looking for the damned

To salt the cellars

Of Hades.

Children are not exempt

From the eruption

The earth churned

In thankless confusion

Corruption, a worldly vice

So readily traded

As common currency.

Whilst serpents

Feed

Innocence is exploited

For its naivety

And freedom

Becomes a word

Warlords and Robber Barons use,

To enslave us all.