She Leaves Me Lusting Poem by Saint Cynosure

My lust for her burns like a flame,
ignites my souls desire.
At the mention of her very name,
I burn as if on fire.
To kiss her lips would quench my thirst,
my mind it seems unstable,
I realize this is a first,
by lust I am enabled.
Without a chance for peacefulness,
I'm broken down and sore.
My search for clear of conscienceness,
just leaves me lusting more.
Her with all her pretty ways,
I'm trapped within her fist.
The only thing of which I pray,
is togetherness and bliss.
Yet she leaves me lusting...