They built it in the morning. I watched the eagles scale the heights above and swirl around in their broad descent, entranced as I by their glistening monument.
My king strode forward with his sons behind. From his right hand, his cane barely touched the ground.
Listen now, he decreed, and the birds were still. I have sworn a pledge to our God. We shall move forward with this. None shall stop us. None shall stop us or none shall live.
I count the money that passes through. It’s my job. I hold the coins for the lord.
No bad temper shall change the weather. No bad man will break our souls.
I count the money. I preserve the lord.
They built it in the morning but by evening it had vanished. The eagles soar no more. Our monument is more a whisper than a shout. Our prayer is more a wink that a song.
My king is dead. His sons fell behind him. We bury those so deep in our memories that none shall escape.
So listen, I decree. I count the money. I alone shall be the monument and the eagles shall fly for me. None shall thrive.