Witness the harsh realities of life I do,
Is it my own problem that I find them cruel?
Stairs up I go, meet Dissolute on every floor,
Does love not exist in my time no more?

Men and women indulge in all sorts of debaucheries,
Am I wrong for breaking this cycle of conformities?
Oh no, I find it hard to give in to all my needs,
Go corrupt and submit to what I call misdeeds;

Is it moral? Immoral? Every night on it I ponder,
What is love without its joy of commitment I wonder?
Today's world defines you by its own standards of maturity,
Forgive me if I'm wrong, but what was ever wrong with purity?