The lost souls of avarice are in hell blessed,
Rotating their tales in disfigured amusement.
Those who bestow and those who wander;
A tribe of mendacities clubbing together,
Shorn of all the inducements of thought and spirit;
Vapours that fill the air of elegant spaces.

Vacuity prospers in the dazzle of false colours,
Whispering its code in programmed ears,
Settling gently on distilled minds.
And through glazed, usurped eyes penetrate
The sanctums of corpulent corporate acquisition –
A myriad of designer destinies.

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