On Wanting

It is impossible not to think

that wanting is an invitation to inevitable decline

(though stone-like creatures fail to endeavour

if they ever live)

we yearn for every complex feeling

(minus precipitent pain)

and flush our minds with lust

beset with the possibilities of sex

and pleasure - such death evading anticks

(though pure hocum and mistrust no doubt)

are panacears to crippled spirits

that dwell in tawdry times

"We must live we must live" we cry

as life evades us still

yet what is quested is never found

nor loveless wantings bound

by truth except when dressed in lies

the saecularum bleeds to apocalypse

and all are turned to ghosts

of the age's hidden wishes.