The Higher Price
Once upon a time all sad songs came true.
The forces of nature all turned foul and malignant.
Love grew thorns as sharp as razors.
And that which was tender became vicious.
The bill for all good things was then presented,
necessitating the bankruptcy of the soul.
And the beloved's joy became an unspeakable sorrow.
And so the storyteller wonders,
So why does death hang back, lurking in the shadows?
It only goes to demonstrate the capitalism of karma,
to extract the higher price.
It is the same thing on the end of every fork.