Selfish

We are wholly selfish beings. There is an ongoing philosophical debate as to whether or not altruism is actually possible for the human being. For those who do not know, altruism is most simply defined as 'doing something positive for another with no potential for gain to oneself.' It is the idea of sacrificial love. The problem being that even when we do something good for another with no apparent gain, or at least no physical gain, we still have the emotional gain of feeling good about ourselves. Doing good brings good feelings, positive self-image, pride, due pride but pride nonetheless. All of these things could easily be considered gain, or so the argument goes, and therefore altruism is not possible unless these emotional rewards are removed from the equation. Personally I tend to agree, I have known to many people who did good in order to feel good about themselves, rather than from genuine care for the other persons situation. As I said, we are wholly selfish beings, even in our goodness we seek self-gratification and, through this, even doing good can become a destructive addiction.
I am forced to wonder what it is about us that drives us to twist even that which should reveal our best, and change it into something that reveals our worst. The only answer I can find is sin. Like a plague it stalks through history, the most dangerous disease in existence for it is 100% contagious and has a 100% mortality rate, and every human being is sick at birth. This poem is devoted to our selfishness, to the endless wants that seem to drive our every action.

There is no life but that which seeks itself
Always yearning after pride
Never seeking God's infinite grace

It drives upon itself
Always striving for ambitious gain
Never releasing to his perfect will

Ever seeking their own pleasure
The living cry out continually
Give me more, Give me more

For there is no satisfaction
No sufficient filling
To encompass our unending need