Leaving Folly

Returning to the mess
Like the proverbial dog
To search out false idols
Waiting to be worshipped

Stirring up the dust
Of old forgotten folly
The former places of refuge
Were bulit on mire

Funny how it use to gleam
Under all the self delusions
Those unholy empty pursuits
Brought forth in vanity and arrogance

Now seen for what it was the maddness of an unrepentive life.