Fight the Urge.

It seems like they’re all gone now.

Every time I open the blue box, how

the green dot goes to mobile;

it’s getting hard to stay noble.

FIghting off persistent coughs

of a future habit hard to stop.

A red and white envelope of paper

buy one now, to use for later.

With friends, no thoughts fly

to what I should be able to deny.

Yet alone, the struggle is close at hand

My ego striving against the id’s demand.

“All writers do it, it helps create,”

my mind says to try and deviate

from what I do not want to do.

A whisper in my ear, “It’s true.”

A secret desire, borne of the night

in daytime spent trying just to fight

the shameful appeal of the world.

My conscience consistently curled,

bent at the edges where it would not lose

holding onto morals it could not loose.

Lord Jesus, I need you here in this moment

to guide me away from my sin’s strong torment.

The lips utterance are tears of crocodiles

as the mind still lingers on that which defiles.

Just try it once, and it won’t be that great –

a statement spoken with bitter hate.

For self-destruction is made of self construction

Ashes fall down from purity’s reduction.

God, help me, and help me to want Your aid

lest I fall in the subtle grave I have made.

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2 thoughts on “Fight the Urge.

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