Ineffectual lunatics scramble to stock-pile  

ink-printed paper and a bevy of collections by

flinging false accusations: Heresy, infidelity, blasphemy, and so on!

Deracinated, I exhale. All radiance drains

Perpetual purgatory persists

Now left behind, the ignorant, verminous connoisseurs wince

as the garrulous garbage wagging from their tounges is

replaced with grim smiles when they view what’s revealed:

The only wealth was LOVE.

Lunatics lack remorse and clamber to gather more.

Used like a recycled piece of trash on repeat

I’d prefer to be disposable

Finally, I flail, then expire.

Now commotion, crumbling, splitting, cracking…

Money Photo by Gabriel Meinert on Unsplash

Earthquake Photo by Colin Lloyd on Unsplash

Love Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash