Body

This is what is presented, offered, gained
Possession of this flesh is the torment guaranteed
Fleeting advantages like a flash in the pan
Like a baked potato in hell, but with plenty-of-something-you-like

Garnishes are taken from the soul
It is stained by the loss of what it cannot remember
All so a body would become its new name
And everybody else its new master

Looking for that one special garnish... that can set you free
You call it "love", that's the lie self-told so casually
When what you want is someone to make you like it here
With less pain, because being set free from here is painful

When you release love itself, you are free
The next second after this is forever
Love is not that answer, it is the question in the hotseat
Love should be put under a microscope, given the 5th degree