All of my machinations
spawn fruitless vines.
Twisted notion posion is
revealed in inner mind.

In dark of night which
way do I direct a vice?
What pacifies once I
might not survive twice.

Hide all that is vile child
in your facade I see bleed
out of your spirit an ilk
that of some toxic seed. 

Fill the hole inside you,
feed that chasm soothe.
Grown is no nourishing
sustenance that is true.

Towers are torn down
that built showed virtue.
But as chaff now harvest
no remedy good for you.  

Sad is such disregard for
your health you refrain.
Your self served love seeks
all you swallow for pain. 

The mirror it speaks loud
as it reflects my mood.
I’ll forgive myself not for
foul I am as I now brood.