In the glint of gold, desires unfold,
Promises sealed in a currency’s hold,
Yet beneath the surface, whispers resound,
Of dreams built up, then tightly bound.

Coins clink in the silence of night,
A lullaby soft, yet edges of fright,
For wealth’s embrace can warm and freeze,
A paradox spun in life’s gentle breeze.

Eyes gleam with the shimmer of gain,
But shadows linger, a silent refrain,
For every note, a tale untold,
Of joy and sorrow, bought and sold.

In pursuit of more, what do we trade?
Time’s gentle touch or friendships that fade?
In the end, as echoes decay,
What truly holds when dreams slip away?