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Submitting to lust.
Passion and emotion combined to a rush.
A drug without a form.
The expression is revealing.
You are addicted and you want more.
You find a victim.
You release it.
But it’s still not gone.
It’s still there roaming around.
A disease without a sound.
A curse with a touch of heaven.
A gift who gives you pleasure.
A fulfilment with no border.
A need that is growing older.
This is a bliss from god or a burden from the devil’s dust.
This is what is given.
A dangerous word called lust.
She is beauty incarnate, seduction born into flesh
Her eyes are piercing daggers of venom lust
But it is sweet to the victim’s blood
She feeds, a parasitic whore, needing the love offered by a strangers kiss.
She is selling herself
Placing self worth upon the shelf and delving into a world of delusion.
Not all of her profession move with devils in their eyes,
But she, she who with a hollow stare could penetrate the most sacred of trusts
She who through the madness of lust could incite a priest to orgy
Is the one I fear
For it is she that brings tears to me eyes
And she who loves within the shadows of a worm ridden sky.