A rusted crown fills the space between their empty words. An invisible sword slices the air of a room distended with the self-congratulatory verbosity of bloated airbags who style themselves elite.
They utter half-truths through shark smiles and corrupted hearts: ice, or maybe stone, as ice would at least have the decency to melt in the raging fires of human suffering.
As these self-crowned modern day robber barons gather in their splendor, a ripple passes through the stale air of the too close room. Fresh air follows the invisible sword strike they fear above all others. This sword is change.
Wow! Powerful! I thought of the Davos summit, why I don't know. But this could be any conglomerate boardroom, their walls adorned with symbols expressing equality or justice, while on the ground, actions are plotted that are ruthless and heartless.
Wow!! You create such amazing imagery with your words.