Ha ha ha! I laugh at the storm and swirling tempest

Not because I am so confident or brazen or strong

Nor because I am a storm myself of swirling chaos

Nor because I am a solid tree of stolid stance

Nor because I have a slew of cash aid to throw its way

Nor because I have a whirlwind of accounts of security

Nor because I have walls as tall as the tallest mountain

Nor because I do the most with all that I have got

Nor because I move the world with the breath of the wind

Nor because I raise the dead and cast them down to hell.

I laugh because I am tired of being downtrodden and weak,

And I weary of the weight of being in the burdensome world

Of the nothingness in which I dwell with only myself to blame

While I watch as the world ignites itself and goes down in flames

Like the tirade of a tyrant whose tycoons only croon when he speaks of

Money money money falling down like the ancient Noahic dove

Let it fall then and let it all burn upon the earth which is a doleful scourge

Of nothing but the histories of men and men and men who have screwed

The earth of her ever-blessedness and ways of giving out life

Till all that is left is a mother destitute of her children who are rife

With the disease-ridden greed of every son of a bitch who rules with

An ungloved hand of mischief and a full-on iron fist.