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He who built his house on sand
Never saw that house again
So it was that any foundation
Created on debaucher deviation
Is cast out into the sea
As it was with you and me

Everyday spent in your squalor-
Lost time I can't reobtain-
Left me more unlike perfection

I felt sanity and conscience
Slip away through my fingers
Into a razor dungeon of self-loathing

Still I'm enthralled by this
Abhorrence of everything that is you-
Festering, nigrescent Nihilism-

And I try to ignore the rage that
Gurgles in my gut like a
Gyrostat, making me ill.

On another shore now rests my house
'Til another wave tears me down.

Even as I finish penning each line
The effort I waste on you collects its fine.
Perhaps I will one day break free-
Decentralize myself from your plea
Let this story end as all others must,
With ashes to ashes…

And dust to dust.