There isn't a feeling more intense than lust,
Nothing more engulfing, more true.
Makes the hardest obstacle look like mere dust,
No space for mind, no sign, no clue.
What can explain the urge?
That moment all energies converge,
Illusion or divine upsurge?
None can articulate which leads to this splurge.
Yet in all my experience I have been a seer,
Studied the feeling, up-close and near.
The blinding force that goes beyond fear,
Makes you forget life and everything dear.
There wasn't anything that made me more sure,
There couldn't be a feeling more pure.
Wondered why it was the lowest sin,
The blinding desire for another's skin.
It then struck me like an arrow,
Why does it have to be so narrow?
What if lust was elevated to emotion?
What if the same happened in life, or still, in devotion?
Could there be a higher way to forget yourself?
To taste the beyond and come out of your shelf.
Yes! Yes! it struck me right,
In one moment of divine insight.
Then for truth I began my lust,
A desire just as robust.
From the root, to the crown, felt a mighty thrust,
That cleansed a stagnant mind of its rust.
And so again I was made a child,
Full of innocence, yet so wild.
Blinded once more, but with a lust divine,
Cracked open to see the subtle and the fine.
Two centers exist through which your energies explode,
The result the same, you become fierce.
Orgasms both,
The root, a seed for creation,
The crown, the creators seat.