When lust at last imposes in the heart,
It sets ablaze the ground and smokes the mind,
And no compelling order to depart,
Can separate the soul from thoughts that bind.

For when lust's made its great impassioned catch,
Its hold outweighs the best escaping skills,
Its talon's grip's a solid iron latch,
And won't release until its aim's fulfilled.

The lustful man deliberately will go,
Ignoring will to do what lust must do,
Where talons only **** him to and fro,
Ignoring moral peace which he once knew.

And when the lust has finished with a scream,
The weakness seems was only but a dream.

(C)2014, Christos Rigakos