12 - Whoremasonry

I built a house today for a whore.
I don’t see her value, not to justify the price.
I’d rather jewelry, though useless bar for
Vanity and to feed my parasitic avarice.

I nearly lied and said I don’t understand my hatred
for this imp, for it is certainly not jealousy.
My views are simple and my safety unsated,
I believe, rather, I fear the aspects of legacy.

The possibility that my presence is secondary,
or worse, that this is how it is meant to be.