The fire in my manhood,
Rages from time to time.
Addicted to that feeling,
Seductive and sublime.
Energy in motion,
Connected to the source.
The objects I admire,
Are fuel for my desire.
But in the belly of this world,
Of a blind and sensual lust.
I remember once again,
That this desire is lust fleeting.
For when the passion is done,
I once again become.
Stupid, to have succum,
To objects of desire.
