Distasteful Lust
The 7 deadly sins of man :
-Envy
-Lust
-Gluttony
-Sloth
-Anger
-Pride
-Covet
In a twist of fate, unexpected scenes occured. I question myself why. I attempt to deter myself from falling into the black hole. Its hard. Temptation is rampant. I can already pick out several reasons on how wrong it is. Things complicate further when I can't tell. Hush.
Who will lend that listening ear to something like this. Morally, wrong. I want to practice what I preach. Lord please, show me the light at the end of the tunnel. The exterior really does count huh. I succumb to fate that I am, afterall, a superficial and shallow bastard.
Never giving you that second glance before. For years, you were just, you. Period.
One dreadful night, tides turned. They keep swirling above my head like blood-thirsty vultures. And the angelic side of me says no, help yourself, dismiss that ridiculous thought swiftly. Then the devilish side of me makes the yearning stronger. Let the truth be known and that already bleak friendship would simply shatter. I thought I had more respect and morality than to let myself be entrapped within these fantasies.
Virtually, impossible. You were always.
I stared at you in the noisy, smoky room. The neon lights flickered continuously. In foreign arms you were, swaying with rythmic beat. Not a second did I blink. Sitting on the barstool and questioning myself "what in the world are you thinking?" Little did I realise that facts couldn't hold a candle to the heart's hidden powers.
-Envy
-Lust
-Gluttony
-Sloth
-Anger
-Pride
-Covet
In a twist of fate, unexpected scenes occured. I question myself why. I attempt to deter myself from falling into the black hole. Its hard. Temptation is rampant. I can already pick out several reasons on how wrong it is. Things complicate further when I can't tell. Hush.
Who will lend that listening ear to something like this. Morally, wrong. I want to practice what I preach. Lord please, show me the light at the end of the tunnel. The exterior really does count huh. I succumb to fate that I am, afterall, a superficial and shallow bastard.
Never giving you that second glance before. For years, you were just, you. Period.
One dreadful night, tides turned. They keep swirling above my head like blood-thirsty vultures. And the angelic side of me says no, help yourself, dismiss that ridiculous thought swiftly. Then the devilish side of me makes the yearning stronger. Let the truth be known and that already bleak friendship would simply shatter. I thought I had more respect and morality than to let myself be entrapped within these fantasies.
Virtually, impossible. You were always.
I stared at you in the noisy, smoky room. The neon lights flickered continuously. In foreign arms you were, swaying with rythmic beat. Not a second did I blink. Sitting on the barstool and questioning myself "what in the world are you thinking?" Little did I realise that facts couldn't hold a candle to the heart's hidden powers.
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