Gold-lined pockets, silver spoons,
Promised futures wrapped in runes.
Gilded gates and marble halls,
A name that echoes through the walls.
Yet wealth is weight, a velvet chain,
Shackled smiles, a life in vain.
For what is gained if soul is sold,
If warmth is lost to hands so cold?
Not all that glitters warms the night,
Not all who shine are bathed in...
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