Whore To Desire

Don't take me, for my mind

Is vile, unprecedented;

It calculates to win

The best from all I adore.

There's a feeling that it has,

A passion powerful;

That I cannot hide from:

Whore to Desire,

Begging for her taste every day,

Even when sense

Swears the opposite;

The temptation rides up high,

It is the mistress:


Which overlooks lonely me,

Controls and holds her,

That wrongful mind-

So you'll never find

A trustful lover in my eyes.

The End

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