When lust is the equilibrium

A love that intrudes upon a sinner
the vitreous belief of innocence
Worthy beyond this lust now that lingers
And tames those wild flames, fires of defiance

Can such exist within reality?
monochrome hopes of Philia rising
Swimming in shallow depths of fantasy
spirit waned, drained, dull and duly drowning.

Alas, death would bring such peace to mere days
suffocating stifled air, spluttering
through the fractured death of celibate haze
that deems lust is the devils muttering.

But what if love could be tamed, bled with lust,
balancing the scale, with desire a must?

Karen Hayward ©2018
Image and words


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