Perfect Thrill

He was brought up in finest pride, Desire matched all gifts, Seized more than all a soul could need, Much more than ever dreamed. From greedy thought to spoiled mind, The world was his to own, Nothing was denied this heart, Yet nothing ever gained. His every trial for lasting pleasure, Shot low by barren aim, Nothing satisfied the lust, The aching plead for joy. Oh how much longer will the pain, Of empty, burning cries, Rot away the choking hope, For finding peace of mind? He drowned away the rising sun, He numbed away its warmth, Living faster, blurring truth, Obsessed by shallow thrill. Flowing like an endless sea, Broke forth through shining tides, When all the hope begs quality, For what would lend him pride. The wind blows out in rhythm, All that he claimed for prize, The soul long sold for ransom, Has cried his empty eyes. For what have you stole sunlight? For what have you bound time? When all that he could bear in sight, Was burned in blinding crime. But now, we see by thoughtless dreams, Our time has been cut short, A final breath can’t bend the mind, From what the world distorts. With every leap of sightless need, With every push for more, His body slowly fades away, His skin seen caving in, What more has this world left to show? What more could soothe the ache? When fate has left him broke and bled, A body, damp and dead.