Vices and Choices

The gleam in the dark

And soul-sucking

Scrape and hollow

A little weaker

Eyes widened to life’s potential nightmare

Or grit in a bloody morning

Taking days of torment

To see yourself sharper

Plans setting smiles and senses

You will suffer

Be tired of waking

And fearful of sleep

But; a deep pool of thought

Or oily pleasures derived by others

Pick which to dive in

For make no mistake

Each day we live, swim, come closer to die in

Cold virtue’s pool or boiling lakes of vice.

By J.W.H. Hobbs.