The rattling of countless coins
Making resplendent sounds
In deep coffers stashed in gilded temples
Trumpeting the sound of generations of absolution
Where sinners paid to atone for sins
As an accounting of lives lived without fear
From the repercussions of their decisions
That would have placed them in the flames
Following their last wicked breaths
Knowing that they could pay their way
To an afterlife of comfort
While the powers of prayers elevated them
Based on the wealth they left behind
Using the gold of ill gotten gains
To build their paths to god
Someone always has to pay
And when the bill comes due
Will all the marble and paintings and gold
Be enough to buy absolution
For a market built on balancing
Good and evil on monetary debts
Copyright © 2021 TJS Sherman All rights reserved.
Musing & Creating with T.J.S. Sherman 