Sagas of rapture and loathing

he masons his sword of molybdenum
and shatters his garment of rock,
his owls and peacocks are all at the ready
beards drawn long and fewer atop.

his threadbare financials are void of an ending
the boundaries volunteer themselves thin.
dusty dim-witted advice vies attention
but the elephant fits cozily within.

colleagues collectively file coffins
and carve the soap into walls
his masons forgo his swords of molybdenum
and go swimming all through the halls.