Masterpieces

Oak wood paneling covering the executive boardroom walls,
part of the plush and luxuriant decor in the Dracula den of profit blood suckers,
each day a confessional conclave for clandestine cravings,
the wet bar their well for drowning guilt's echoes during leech rivals
as they plot another feast of greed using power's fangs to drain lives.

Alone, the head of their corporate coffin for the conscience sips his bourbon plasma
sitting in the room, gazing at collection of art masterpieces that surrounds him,
attempts to adorn with beauty a soul that died when first victim was drained
insides never numbed to stakes of stress, bank account no solution for lack of peace,
silently subduing the secrets of the heart, which longs for spiritual paintings never painted