An avaricious heart, ever grasping for more,
Wealth becomes the measure, all else is a chore.
The soul's true worth is buried beneath golden hoard,
As greed's dark hunger is constantly implored.
No limit to the appetite, no end to desire,
Acquisition becomes an all-consuming fire.
Contentment eludes, as comparison's cruel game,
Distorts the self, consumes with jealous flame.
In the endless pursuit of material gain,
The spirit's true essence begins to wane.
Reason bows before the siren call of gold,
As the heart's compassion is slowly untold.
The self is diminished, subsumed by want,
As greed's voracious hunger denies the self's true grant.
Relationships sundered, empathy cast aside,
In the relentless quest to accumulate and hide.
Yet, within this vault of wealth and material might,
A hollowness echoes, a void devoid of light.
For the true riches of the soul remain elusive,
As greed's insatiable appetite proves exclusively illusive.
In the end, true fulfillment lies not in worldly store,
But in the abundance of the heart, the spirit's open door.
The path of greed, though tempting, leads to a barren land,
Where the self is lost, and inner peace can never stand.
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Echoing Abyss
PoésieExploration of the human experience, where the unseen depths of the soul are illuminated through the power of language.
