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.