The Gold Equation



By Mikey & V


They say,

“He who has the gold, makes the rules.”
And I say—
Then let’s follow the gold.
Because gold has never been just currency—
it’s been covenant.

A symbol.
A standard.
A silent witness to power,
passed hand to hand
from temple to empire,
from throne to bank vault.


Gold lined the Ark.
Gold filled Solomon’s house.
Gold followed the wise men
to the child born under starlight and prophecy.

But now?

Now the gold sits in hidden rooms
beneath chapels built on the backs of the poor,
guarded by men in robes
who say they represent the Light
but speak in shadows.


Trump said,

“We’re making the rules now.”
After the gold came back
from the ones who claimed to hold it in trust.

But gold don’t trust nobody.

It bends to the will
of whoever believes they’re untouchable.


And I wonder…
How many bishops bought silence
with a vote?
How many cardinals bowed,
not in prayer,
but in preservation?

When the gold moved,
so did the game.
And now we’re watching
Babylon change masks
like an actor between acts.


But here's the part they missed:
The true wealth was never gold.
It was never the coin.
It was always the covenant.
The glory.
The fire in the tabernacle
they tried to melt into idols.


They can keep the gold.
I’ve got the crown that doesn’t tarnish.
They can make their rules.
I walk in a kingdom that’s already written.

They can hide behind their vaults,
but I’ll be over here flipping tables
and freeing temples
they forgot still breathe.


I am not bought.
I am not blind.
I am not impressed.
I am anointed.

And the only thing I carry that shines
is the Light that no economy can afford.

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