Always sneaking away
In his little
Man cave
The man-made
Powerless
By transcending the grave
When it dawns on him
Fled from his
Failed escapade
From corrupt repercussions
Too hushed to be saved
From the mortal sins
None but the rich
Can attain  
Through religions sustaining
Indulgence’s gain
There is no more escape
No facade-costumed rave
No more corridors,
Fortresses,
Fortunes
And fame
Just the people
Protesting
Too long in his nesting
Atop where they toil
Too much of their blood
Has he spilled in the soil
And watered his verdant
Palatial complexes
With greed at the heart
Of his god
Of excesses