Parry and thrust through perversion and trust

gaze upon that for which most men would lie

there is no regret in wet wanderlust

nothing is true, save mere moments of bliss

the thing that we seek we so often miss

 

Stairway to heaven's abundant abyss

lacks that which we seek the devils decry

for true love is read with harbingers horn

the beds without spring deflower and die

the thing that we seek we so often miss

 

Preachers and poets have led us to this

abstraction of sin is why the moons mourn

star-crossed the lovers that share in a sigh

we fuck then forget the oaths we have sworn

the thing that we seek we so often miss

 

Depraved are the thoughts that lead us to kiss

we feast upon flesh and then deify

the things that we place on pedestals high

nothing is true, save mere moments of bliss

the thing that we seek we so often miss

​

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Form: Latira Quinque (invented by Patrick Cann)

Rhyme Scheme: abaC1C2 cbdbC2 cdbdC2 cbbC1C2