Curse Of The Insatiably Bloated

[Deciviel]

He steers his eyes up to the sky,
And clenches the sun in his fist.
Cigarette butts smolder on the pavement below,
Flicked there by his satin wrist.

He darkens his visage and distorts the real
With words that stand no ground.
He winds his way through an urban maze
To the future birthplace of his dream, unbound.

As he enters the fray, he wastes no time
In disposing of the weak but the true.
Ascending gradually to the throne of it all,
Establishing his corporate coup.

His belly is full, yet he craves for more,
His desire unquenchable by mere mortality.
The farther he pushes, the blinder he becomes
To the grim but true actuality.

Not an ounce of repent courses through his veins,
His addiction becomes his curse.
He kills and maims any shred of morality
Just to stuff his bloated purse.

And as if to say, "Enough is enough",
His leash is pulled back by fate.
His tower crumbles and fate chuckles
At the fool who took the bait.

His hunger now becomes his hell,
Something never again will he be able to feed.
Instead all he has are his agonizing thoughts
Of a once great man brought down by greed.

[Seven of Nine]

This is GOOD