Ticking

Denying what I have if just to hold you,
Breathing in this torment of pain,
The pleasures of sorrowful lust dimming what is true,
We starve for the death of which age tries to obtain,

The shattering madness of the few,
Only to put on a lovingly facade,
Satan cares little for what we may say or do,
For what is so meaningful for what God has forbade

Shall my tears be quenched,
Or my heart stilled,
What is water without its drenched,
Or these words without their fill,

Incline your ear,
As I tickle your emotional fears.