Submitting to lust.
Passion and emotion combined to a rush.
A drug without a form.
The expression is revealing.
You are addicted and you want more.
You find a victim.
You release it.
But it’s still not gone.
It’s still there roaming around.
A disease without a sound.
A curse with a touch of heaven.
A gift who gives you pleasure.
A fulfilment with no border.
A need that is growing older.
This is a bliss from god or a burden from the devil’s dust.
This is what is given.
A dangerous word called lust.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem