The Dwindling Empires

Kay Hassan

Let me  go , we’re  barbarians ,
Not real  subjects  of  your terrains
Behold  how thy cities are  bleeding ,
And the  empires are  dwindling
Breaking down into money-dust
While, under the cities' shelters ;
 The Bohemian wanderers
Unto  genies whisper
‘Besmila.’ *  
Money is  man,
Man is a bank account.
'I am horrified.'
 ‘Besmila .’

Tongue-less, chocked  sighs,
 Barefacedly,  turning blind eyes,
To the threats of the price.
'Besmila.'

Man of    one-way , bro
Is easy come, easy go,
 Let him go, he is a bastard
Let him go  he is a barbarian

"I am the emperor of all  concerns"!
Concerns?  You have not any! Your Majesty,
Money is a menial pursuitThy empires are dwindling
And thy subjects turning into  money
The menial pursuit  is Man ,
Man is a string of number in  the local bank.
With  none of Socratic concerns.

*“Besmila :  From Qumran via the Bohemian Rhapsody. Literally,  means.'In the name of God.'”

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