Floating on the other side
A mind clouted by an undue exposure
To the finer things in life,
Waiting to find what is that peace of mind,
Waiting to find what is not likely to let itself be found.

Substance builds on material,
And joviality on gaiety.
All, stroked and made to appear as gold,
Grows wildly around as the beings shrink.
Until the material festers,
And the smiles of those once loved
Turn to scowls, menacing their way into psyche.

Stone faces command attention,
Black eyes see all there is to know,
Souls decompose with sudden vigor,
While all the rest, the rest returns to dust.

And still easy is it
To inhale the drug that is decadence.