The feelings of true lust
Creep mercilessly across my mind

I can feel its seductive stroke
On my shoulder that turns to ice

And my eyes are fickle to the imagination
That plays out steamy scenarios that end the same way

Yes, I’m in true lust for the seventh time this week
But is it special in any sort of way?


No.

Thought I had become nearly as hard as brass
As my mind drifts aimlessly throughout the grass
But still, the pressures of the world continue to hammer
Yet who is to argue a diamond’s beauty and glamour?

For at the end of the day, I’ll be crushed into dust
And my soft flesh-bag form is all but robust
And the perfection of a stone that withstands the cold air
Is subject to pressure but continues without a care

The diamond is pure; the diamond is correct
We all ought to give it its deservéd respect
Because a diamond has no weakness or any sort of flaw
Unlike the simple humans that gaze at it in awe

I can almost hear it speak; give it your full attention
As it so rightfully boasts without a slight hint of pretension
That my sad pouring eyes and my chaotic plagued mind
Resembles nothing that belongs to its perfect carbon kind.

So mine mine mine out the caves in your brain
As the diamonds dryly watch as you all go insane.

I was single again.

Because like a light shining out
And suddenly broken apart

Hands were held, feelings molded
Love was harmonized in the air

But then the feelings became null
And you said you wanted it to end.........


Now I'm just here
But now I'm just null too.

Because I'm already full
With the thoughts of her.

And what can the other world offer
That can compromise what your eyes already see?
Will love be sure to carry on and survive
If you simply choose to look right past me?

I get it. I understand the feel of the wires
On the human skin. I can genuinely feel
How it is to be embraced by the machine
That devours anything that is real.
The silver dream takes me on a journey
Unlike any other. The party doesn’t stop
As naked bodies dance and sway from the comfort
Of my room; just until my eyes start to drop.

And friends go by and wonder why
I go to sleep at three o’clock in the morning
But who needs rest when the dream is there
And rusted judgment is the first warning.