By Andrew R. Duckworth
What a prized possession she held,
Item of greed,
Enough to tempt goddesses,
And the world hasn’t been the same since.
Greed has a power,
Tidal waves crashing upon every shore,
The perfect storm of discord,
Wielding destruction at lady and lord,
And something so small,
But Greed sinks it’s teeth in the neck of all
Enjoying the view of humanity’s fall.
And once the terrible deed is done
And Discord surveys the prize she’s won,
The heavens and humanity aches
And the fragile apple stays in place.
Humanity, more fragile than a golden apple.