I can't help myself but fall
Down and down to the stall
Where my soul is fully tempted
By my lust. So once attempted
To get into the expanse
Of obscenity, it lanced
My desire, at first gentle,
Then transformed into a bender.
This malignant neoplasm
In pejorative orgasm
Substitutes God's wine for water
From contaminated bottles.
Oh, I'm sick and I am ill.
It is easy to reveal
That I'm purulent. Come over
To the dream of being sober,
To the dream of being free
From expressing any glee,
Without any expectation
Of my life continuation.