Growth is dampened with choice
And as one grows as does the enormity of choice...

Roused on a Sabbath ante meridiem
The breath was numbing foreign to his window...

The red velvet softness riddled with holes
Warmth, burning fire, stoking your soul...

Gloriously brilliant yet built from gluttony
Within is held the power to breed a thousand...

Perhaps the choice of love or lust
Is one that shadows the choice of trust...

What is the point of laughing if you only want to...
What is the point of striving if you never want to...