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Rated: E · Poetry · Religious · #1358459
This is a poem about the inner battle of conflicting desires.
My lips have tasted
Ember sweet
That kissed me kneeled
At angel's feet;
Yet at this momement,
I must think
Your mouth be mine
Prefer'd drink.
Though white-hot coal
Did leave its mark
In me, your lips
Ignite a spark
That I cannot
Control or tame;
Hence cannot me
Be found to blame.
Yet spoil'd I fast
Lurch away:
To save the mourh
With which I pray!
© Copyright 2007 Amy Martin (so_amyzing at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1358459-Preyer