All Is Not Gold
In halls of polished marble, bright and grand,
A golden promise gleams across the land.
The venture, fresh with hope and youthful fire,
Ignites a nation's soul, a shared desire.
The charts ascend, a steady, upward climb,
Forecasting fortunes, conquering all time.
The prospect smiles, its teeth of solid gold,
A story of prosperity, to be told.
But look beneath the shimmer, soft and low,
Where hidden currents of dissent may flow.
The soil is thin, the roots can find no hold,
The gilded surface hides a story old.
A market flooded, where the margins shrink,
A whispered rumor on the crumbling brink.
The hurried launch, the lack of studied grace,
A foundation built on time's relentless chase.
A country looks toward a future new,
An industry of silver, bright and true.
They pour the coin, they build the towering stacks,
Ignoring warnings, turning their straight backs.
The global currents shift, the tide recedes,
The vibrant market withers, choked with weeds.
The product, once desired, now sits in stone,
A monument to what they should have known.
The local lifeblood drains, the well runs dry,
A bitter silence answers every cry.
Reflects the sun with overwhelming light.
A candidate with words of honeyed phrase,
Constructing futures of more prosperous days.
They promise comfort, wealth for every hand,
A brand new Eden in a tired land.
The voter, starved for hope, gives their assent,
Believing in the golden sentiment.
But where's the ledger, where's the balance sheet?
The policies with consequences to meet.
The promised coin is hollow, thin, and frail,
A passing fancy on a shifting gale.
The taxes rise to feed the endless fund,
A fragile web, where truth is often shunned.
The borrowed joy, a future paid in pain,
A heavy price for empty, selfish gain.
For not all glitter is the precious ore,
And not all open doors lead to the shore.
The deepest mines of insight must be plumbed,
Before the final, lasting die is thumbed.
The hasty choice, the rush toward the light,
Can plunge the spirit into darkest night.
So pause and question, peel away the sheath,
For all that shines may hide a world of grief.
The true reward is careful, measured trust,
And knowing that all gold can turn to dust.
