Wind Chaser

To bend is to break as strife is to obtain, 
With gain comes loss as memory to pain. 
All things are weary such is our luck, 
Recounting the days recall only one, 
To sit on a throne is to wallow in muck. 

To build is to crush to succeed is to waste, 
The cheering applause the politic of days. 
Running for office all be it supposed, 
Be it king or minister or populous heroes, 
As dead composers will only decompose. 

A tower may rise on ashes of slaves 
But fall as Babylon when sold in a day. 
The struggle to work for the legal tender,
A reason and cause for this endless labor, 
Thus Eden cursed the fallen wind chaser.