Gilt
Betray your friends
Turn your back on them
For in your eyes
Glows shining and faultless
A glorious prize
Valued far above compassion
Of which the size alone
Is compensation
But in the end you'll find
The bag of gold
For which you sold your soul
Has turned to stone
You'll have nothing left
But your gilt
Copyright © Scott Carrier | Year Posted 2023
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