Chapter one
In halls where shadows lengthen, trust wears frail and thin,
Promises once pledged fade as quiet plots begin.
The faithful wait on vows now torn and cast aside,
While whispered tales of broken bonds on wind and water ride.
Fair words are twisted, contracts snap like brittle reed,
And those who guard the earth and truth find only need.
Yet dawn, with golden herald, shall pierce the murky night,
Unveiling veiled misdeeds ‘ere honor claims its right.
When loyalty is tested by deceit’s unyielding guile,
The roots of discord tangle deep beneath the smile.
Falsehoods dressed in market’s green may dim the day’s clear light,
But steadfast hearts shall rise to set the balance right.
The market’s dance oft masks a sly, corrosive play,
Where values fall like forests felled, truth swept away.
Sister houses vie with whispered schemes below,
Undercutting honor for a fleeting show.
Thus commerce kneels to profit’s narrow reign,
And fairness drowns while rivers choke in vain.
Yet time unmasks what artful hands may hide,
For tides will turn, and cleanse the poisoned tide.
Chapter two
Beneath the market’s bustling, polished floor,
Some hands give less while taking ever more.
They paint their wares with leaves of borrowed green,
Yet hide the roots where greed has always been.
The honest farmer tills with care and grace,
But finds his harvest stolen in the race.
A promise made to trade with equal weight
Is bartered down behind a gilded gate.
The river knows when dye has stained its song,
The forest feels when chainsaws hum too long.
Fair trade, like soil, needs tending year by year,
Or weeds of falsehood choke what should grow clear.
But still, beneath the fraud, the seeds remain,
And voices rise to break the binding chain.
A greener earth is born when truth holds sway,
And every hand gives back what it must take away
Chapter Three
They take the earth in handfuls, calling it their right,
Shoveling gold from rivers, turning day to night.
Forests fall in silence, seas grow choked and dim,
Yet their smiling masks still shine with virtue’s hymn.
They trade in shadows, counting what they’ve won,
While mountains bleed and fields are left undone.
Contracts inked in smoke dissolve when truth draws near,
Their promises mere echoes that the wind won’t hear.
The soil remembers every secret hand,
The stones bear witness where the thieves still stand.
For every seed they steal, the earth records the debt,
And tides will come to claim what hearts forget.
In time, the roots will rise through concrete’s skin,
And cleanse the stains where greed had once been sin.
The earth, though wounded, waits for justice’ breath,
To cast its light on those who dealt in theft.