Wednesday, April 27, 2005

Joyous are men who gather
Human nature an excuse
Love in seldom perfect requit
Money a possession of desires of the shallow
Empty, the hearts that seek them

I dwell in hollow materialism,
proclaiming righteousness not practiced.
Silhouettes of solace built with effortlessness
Bliss toppled on its solid pillars

Destiny's temperament made me a tool
Love smirked at me as the world's greatest fool.