The rich man's treasure, a fortress strong and grand,
A castle high within his mind does stand.
Yet truth reveals, in death no shield is found,
No lofty walls can hide on burial ground.
No castle tall can mask life's stark demand,
Rich or poor, wise or fool, all share death's hand.
One path we tread, to where all life must wend,
In death's embrace, all journeys find an end.
When life departs, no riches can ascend,
No glory gained will follow to the end.
Naked we came, from mother's womb so bare,
Naked we leave, all wealth left in despair.
To some, wealth's allure seems bright and fair,
A source of life, a goal beyond compare.
But not for me, in wealth my heart finds naught,
For where true joy resides, there wealth is sought.
Many toil, by wealth's deceit are caught,
It whispers lies, a life's purpose it has wrought.
Yet wealth decays, by folly it is brought low,
Like rust on iron, its worth will never grow.
I choose not to live for things that go,
For transient treasures bring only woe.
These words I speak, not by birth they're sought,
But by heart's wisdom, in truth they're wrought.
Reflecting day and night, I see the plot,
The hollow gain of wealth that matters not.
In the face of death, wealth's power is naught,
A fleeting shadow in life's fleeting plot.
YOU ARE READING
Only My Heart Knows
PoetryWithin this anthology lies a tapestry of verses penned by Jcena Mortiff, each intricately woven around diverse manifestations of love. These words ache to break the shackles of confinement, the very letters thirst for emancipation, all plucked from...
