Woe To The Lust Nemesis Poem by John Sensele

Woe to you Lust
Nemesis of men whose conscience you manipulate and ensnare
Reducing their pituitary gland to impotent dust
Singing their future and dignity with no iota of care

To plunge King David to his downfall
Steal from King Solomon wisdom
Hurtling mighty Samson into a spectacular free fall
And modern midgets you ensnare in Sodom

Bereft of the moral compass
Drifting in the wind like a vagabond
Who at the slightest glance at a skirt the fallen midget makes a pass
As from matrimonial home besotted midgets abscond

Squandering family jewel
Splurging to delight jezebels
With purloined family crown
Which in pitiful submission fools at the sound of Hell's bells

Turn into automatons
You manipulate pulling strings left
Then right as the fallen midgets give up bliss batons
To sink into your theft cleft

Where midgets rot wondering how they came
To Charybdis and Scylla
Filled with shame and blame to their disgraced name in a sordid game
Where they emerge thinner and taller

In sin standards
Where their cubits and fathoms pale into insignificance
As bliss bards
Wave them away to self incriminate at the tomb of impertinence.