The Demon Plutus
Screams "Pape Satan, Pape
Satan Aleppe"
The shouts of Virgil
Silence the deamon of wealth.
The Circle of Greed.
An eternal fight
"Why Hoard?" "Why Spend?" The crowd seethes
Bloody and violent
Bald heads and clenched fists
And the corrupt of the Church
All are Fortune's Marks
Virgil lectures me
"Fortunes will shapes Fortune's things.
As we curse she smiles."
Climbing down the hill
we follow a fetid stream
to the river Styx
A burping swampland.
Those angry and those bitter
Fight and drown in it
We follow the shore
The stars say it's midnight here
A tall black tower.
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