Midnight Pockets

By Cliff Lake

 

Midnight Pockets

 

What dark enclave meets?

Gathered for unholy chore.

What misdeeds performed here?

They leave their souls at the door.

 

What sigil marks them?

What profane stain is scored?

They vote from their purses,

Greed is given the floor.

 

Mammon wakes them,

Mammon stakes them,

Mammon breaks them,

Mammon takes them.

 

Guarded whispers, winking eyes,

Craving leaks from every pore.

Their every want now revealed,

To whom is their fealty swore?

 

Mammon shakes them,

Mammon makes them,

Mammon breaks them,

Mammon takes them.

Cash spilling out from the bedroom drawer,

Accounts sky-high and set to soar,

Having it all and wanting more,

Honest men disappear in vapor.

 

Witching hour vote done,

Choices counted and paid for.

Crooked smile on demon’s son,

Knowing what is next in store…

 

Mammon wakes them,

Mammon stakes them,

Mammon breaks them,

Mammon takes them.

 

Mammon wakes them,

Mammon stakes them,

Mammon breaks them,

Mammon takes them.

 

Cliff Lake 5/22/2025

Copyright © Clifford Lake 2025

Location: Washington, DC, USA

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