Why is it our fault that we fall into desire; O, falling star

Falling from a bridge between two lusts, stay standing so

That I do not defile the beloved with a sordid profligacy.

Do I see her this way; a plaything of pleasure? No, I do not!

I see her a so gentle a creature worthy of the most caring love;

Such as it is that my torrid fire would utterly consume her.

And, so I hold back the lure call leaving her alone and yearned

For; filling the space between us with the most unspoken frequency

Of desire that it becomes a legend of no purpose but of sad duration.

Yes, now let us lament for all the halting and begrudging space that

We relegated to this retrospection and summoned it back from all

The incomparable circling so that this lurid lust was a pall bearer to love.

The time of desire and all its recollection is but a relapse into endless

Illness of tragic unfufillment whereas the falling into lust is but the

Flailing of our inner beast into the sacrifice of all our noble predilections.

Noble or ignoble is the question.  Whether to pluck the lovely weft from the

Loom of love or to not possess such a secret lightness such as a dawning

Day and to watch its softness endure by all the freedom from lust possibly endured.

Let us raised our blood to an extended work so that we may hold it at a high

Level so that fulfillment need not come from lust.  To contain oneself is to

Transform the world outside into the land full of inwardness of soft duration.

View kittymonkey's Full Portfolio