Lust then overwhelms the reign of passion
crowning dishonor with the sins of pride
genuflecting to a greedier master
with empty scrolls revolving in its eyes.
If love should drip from the thorn edged petals
this wound that travels deeply may reveal
its outward quest through the bloody vessels
that flesh is the weakest armament we wear.
Nestled in the arms of faithful lovers,
complete acceptance knowing what is true,
sunlight waking up the world in wonder
when passion reigns unchallenged in its rule.
11. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's ink cartridge, no matter how prolific. 12. Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's muse, no matter how comely nor concupiscent Drat, those two nailed me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
......unchallenged in its rule.....brilliant...