I had crooked ideas, they were almost coiled
Had it been the out gone stories or the sole desire to be undue
However cruel and compassionate these stories might be
Either they justify or unjustify my so call voluntary reflexes.
Stories of an unreal escapade, mostly including homo sapiens
The ones who refused the third leg or were unworthy of it
These species will ultimately act as though they were diamonds
Diamonds that will create an atmosphere of fear and hope
Those two were just illusions, illusions that manufacture insecurity
When gone they leave you in a dilemma and well angered.
So many frustrated desires, even the unthought desires
They dwelled imperfectly and intermingled with the culture
That hurriedly adopted the culture, the so corrupt one
They shall not regret for it only devours your desires
Socially gratified you will be, immediately after the metamorphose
Only because we all live in an unworthily contented society.
I had a choice, or should I say choices
The good, bad and nearly ugly ones
Have they been interwoven into my DNA?
Whatever be I still had a choice, or should I say choices
Thoughts that will seduce you and make you want to give in
They wore scented aromas and the skinniest of smiles
I still had a choice, or should I say choices.
Here they come again only that this season there is a blockade
A blockade of matured desires and dignified notions
Pumped out of me, they were inevitably showcased
Pain and shame, the thrusting strength.