Art of Emotion How dare a day of happiness exist?
How dare a butterfly flaunt its beauty?
To invade a body and reside like a cyst
And tempt a chamelion to chizzle at pity,
Then die into darkness when time becomes like dust,
That was once whole but now can not be plenty.

Who asked pain to be of consequence,
When emotion is no longer of substance,
To degrade and pervade with no flamboyance,
Then kill the living with no dred of sense.
To provoke whispered utterance,
When souls have been sucked of perseverence.

Turn a blind eye and they can be shut away.
Cast into fire and held at bay.
The sting of their rath will forever seize to sway,
But one slip and you will have coin to pay.