Desire Disgusts Even The Likes of Me

The moon, shrouded in a veil of clouds,
Cast a pallid glow upon the scene,
As they, haunted by their own yearnings,
Found themselves entangled in its embrace.

But lo, as the shadows lengthened,
And the air grew thick with unease,
They recoiled at the touch of desire,
For it was a foul and wretched thing.

It was a night of eerie whispers,
When desire, with its tainted allure,
Crept into the hearts of those
Who feared no sin, no darkness.

Even those who knew no fear
Were repelled by its twisted form,
And thus they turned away,
Leaving behind the stench of their own loathing.

See me as a man not as the monster you came to know