The lust of the flesh-
The desires of the soul
The imaginations of the mind-
Consumes us whole
It begs to be satisfied
Its calls can hardly be defied
Its gaze is upon the flashy
But it leaves times marshy
It makes us crave to have
That which we cannot own;
On our minds we carve
Incursions into another man's zone
Were one blind
Were one deaf
Perhaps he wouldn't find;
But what about 'perf'?
If one lost smell
If one lost taste
If texture one couldn't tell
Wouldn't his life be waste?
Since we mustn't lose our senses
We must secure our defences
May we never squelch
In the marsh of the lust of the flesh
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem