• I've asked the question, "Lust or dust?"
    The answer lies in the side I trust.
    With the latter in the white, one might feel weary.
    Inevitable death seems a little bit scary.
    With death lurking at every corner, and the light of life across the border.
    Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, lest we say, in guns we trust.
    The former remains in the rooms without light.
    Telling by its arousal, it doesn't wish to fight.
    It's wish is to feel the climax of love,
    With desire soaring, like a young baby dove.
    With such a desire of strong love and lust,
    It is sure that eventually, the bonding will bust.
    I ask again the question, "Lust or dust?"
    I ask you now, "Which side do you trust?"