"Accountants of the Coin" by Ben Scheg

Ghost councils choose our fates

I saw them in my dreams They meet in secret, solemnly

Fill papers with our names

My name is on a document

Of people who will join The shambling arbitration

Accountants of the coin

On their eyes are talismans

Tithed from River Styx The Devil wants to meet them

God says they don’t exist

Their sight goes into portals

The coin reveals our fates

They document us; everyone

So our lives may they dictate

Who chooses? Who is chosen? They hiss as I ask “Our father did decree in mortal hoardings we should bask”

In unison they spoke

Scribing what was said Blind by coins upon their eyes

Staring straight ahead

They told me of the magic

Used to create coin A dark and subtle sorcery

Controls our very minds

They listen from your pocket

Influence exchange With every transaction

Colonize your brain