I would leave right now, but,
For the pain of satisfaction,
Am compelled in this forgotten woe
To go on.

I have seen this satisfaction’s pain,
Have seen this putrefaction’s gain,
Wherein lost hopes and wanton ways
Are paved and plastered to the
Walls of a hall of sorrow –
A hall of fame.

A famous hall with plastered walls,
Which bear the names of you and I –
The satisfied – in pain.

And satisfaction’s predilection
Takes its toll on those who know
And those whose knowledge is ignored
And those whose knowledge does implore
Them not to satiate all desires of this world.

I would leave right now, but
False satisfaction’s gains, less elusive
Than the pain,
Entrance me in this dance of fame.
The fame does push me on,
Until when famous I have gone,
And gone on and on and on in God-sent pain.

There would be no time to tell
Through the pain of God-sent hell
What a satisfied desire should be like.
For desire’s satisfaction is the
Spirit’s putrefaction:
Only desires non-existent are satisfied.