What am I, but your fate?
A grinning smile of self hate.
I am the urge within that calls
Beckoning you to my hallowed halls
Oh, you hear my cries, my whispered pleas
As you walk along: as pockets of lowly disease
Still, I can not help but admire
How you slowly consume: All which you desire
Festering this need, these wanton goal
As you bury yourself in glittering holes.
Still, there are more of you who weep in vain
Wallowing in heartache, and mental pain
You few are my favorite, my most prized children
Searching haplessly for way to end your burdens
Oh yes, these few have it so hard
Swallowing their sorrows in bowls of lard
Tugging at their skin, their image they despise
While starving themselves to attain the prize.
Yes, you children, are indeed the best.
Screaming souls of the rather depressed
You may push me away and force me under
But still I lurk, waiting to tear you asunder.