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Look at your hands, what tales do they tell?
Have they crafted dreams, or are they just a shell?
Trapped in the mundane, a silent plea,
Yearning for creation, a soul's decree.

Walking roads lined with shimmering lights,
Promising a better life, heights upon heights.
But at what cost, this glittering bait?
Is it worth the essence of your fate?

Money and fame, a siren's call,
Will you surrender, let your true self fall?
How long does the illusion last, this golden hue?
When money becomes you, what remains true?

Under control, a puppet on a string,
Listening to those who own everything.
Cash, a mere paper, a child's trick,
A cycle of debt, a slate they slick.

The few hold the wealth, a game so old,
In their hands, the world's heart they hold.
Money, a lie, a tool of control,
A narrative spun, taking its toll.

Don't get caught in this whirlwind, this soul's plight,
It will tear you apart, steal your light.
Remember your essence, your true goal,
In the pursuit of more, don't lose your soul.