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Within each heart dwells an emptiness that yearns to find its true fulfilment,
yet humans cling to fleeting things that leave even deeper longings in desolation.
We chase pale imitations of true bliss in addictions that ensnare both mind and will, each substitute relief only a wisp that slips faster and faster down the streams of life.
These false idols hold us captive, bind us with bonds we forge with each withdrawal to fleeting highs that promise to install joy in the places meant for the joy of one's own seat.
Do not listen to the siren song of lust that feeds on hollow pleasures that turn to dust, free yourselves, my friends, from self-made prisons, seek lasting goods that will not fade away.
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