I spend hours wanting all the things forbidden
By the highest holy order
I am not God, nor am I even moral
If God is perfect, and created all things,
Including me
Why was I made in a way that suggests
There is something wrong in my form
I am a simple beast
Fascinated by pleasure, the thrill of the hunt
Eating things that will kill me
Desires unbridled and hunger made me a whore
I have this endless hunger inside my inner core
What I want is different than what I need
How am I to know without having lived before
How am I to find what others know inside?
Is it fair to have a standard that can only be discovered
That mystery uncovered by our worst transgressions?
I think I that I am dying to know the answers
Or will I die, simply from the cancers
That burn burn burn
