I believed wealth makes one fulfilled.
So I worked the hardest, became the smartest, told the best lies.
With every bad I did, I was rewarded.
Now I have great position, dinning with people of position.
I have money.
I have women.
I have cars.
I have power.
I have it all.
Yet, satisfaction eludes me.
Yet, I remain unfulfilled.
Cursed by greed, I always crave more.
An unquenchable thirst that denies me peace.
My cravings stains me with blood.
My deeds sprouted in me a false tongue, never truthful, never just.
They look at me and see a man of success, with the brightest of futures.
I look in the mirror and I can’t find myself, only a shadow of what I once was.
A shade that once, was just and right and true, slowly fading away.
I know not what I’ve become, Man or Monster.
Life has happened to me, giving me all its beauty, and stealing my humanity.
Today I lie in my sick bed, and ponder in my thoughts, as I await the knock of death at my door.
Am I fulfilled.