In the shadow of towering steel,
Where fortunes rise, and dreams congeal,
A world of wealth, a gilded cage,
Whispers softly, age to age.

The midnight oil, the endless grind,
A promise of prosperity, ever blind,
To the weary heart, the restless soul,
Bound by numbers, profits their goal.

Beneath the glitter, the silent cry,
Of those who toil, their spirits high,
Yet chained by visions, not their own,
In fields of green, seeds of doubt sown.

The balance tips, the scales skew,
In the heart of gold, a somber hue,
For what is gained, and what is lost,
In capitalism’s relentless frost.