Epithemia

poem of human desire

Why should eyes that can't have, ever be permitted to see
that which they cannot attain?
For passion and beauty only sought, but never gained turns from the pure honey
intended into a snare for aching hearts.

If able, would one not change his desire to that which could
fulfill?
Or knowing the end would only seek that which gives into his
will?

For pain and agony within ones soul, the bitter reality of limits untold,
fester and bulge from deep within with silent cries that seek only
to drive men insane.

The erotic lust and passion strong; deep desire and aching bones;
Mind and soul tis set ablaze; the conscience weeps while the flesh
doth crave.