Gild of Blotted Lucre

Bloated imperials brimmed with spirits
Foot atop mounds of bloodied vassals
Lowly caste bound to anguish
Scores of drones vying for the sap of greed, howbeit forsake thee
Unstirring pool, dammed at every bourn
Assaying faint
Drops of sullage flowing
Bath of flowered hems teeming with aurum
The noble steepened, conniving prayers
A sudden rain flees the overhanging cauldron
The many drones raise their goblets up from
Squalor

Groveling spirit, damned to thirst
Raise thee goblet up in joy
Fruit of a lacrimating crone
Stow and drain as many have

Bleakest of fates
Pitiless arc