Sexual Soul

Sown by Ecstasy, born of Desire,
Conceived in the flames of Passion’s fire.
God and Goddess the seed and the womb,
Unbidden, a sexual soul comes to bloom.


Aglow with indifference to their casual deed,
They banish the spirit to Earth without heed.
How entrusted, embodied, alone Passion knows,
To a mortal, wherein the Divine Tempest grows.


The lust for flesh, yet dormant and cold,
In a body of impotent youth controll’d.
Impatiently seeking an outward release,
Anxiously waiting, never at peace.


When youth, its mantle of innocence yields,
Carnal awareness, unconfined, spills.
A sword of yet unknown strength deposes
All, and a singular purpose imposes.


Fueled by temptation, encumbered with doubt,
Denied consummation, to suffer without.
Thus, satisfaction of the unmet need
Is found in fantasy, not in deed.


A concupiscent mentor eager to guide,
Unveils to the virgin a new world inside.
In calm submission the pupil soon learns,
Sensual pleasures for which the soul yearns.


Exploring the heights and depths to find
The source of copious rivers of wine,
In a drunken dance, to which they consent,
‘Til mentor and pupil are breathless and spent.


Erotic euphoria the heart corrupts,
Rivalry ‘tween sex and love erupts.
The hedonist sexual soul assails
The loving heart, which falters and quails.


Intemperance like waves on a stormy sea,
Crash and drown love’s tender plea.
Insatiable cravings that roll like thunder,
Rend the heart and soul asunder.


When pledging a conjugal partner for life,
Dismissing Passion summons the strife.
If beauty and grace instead the mind chooses,
A doom of unforeseen woes it unlooses.


The longing for flesh, beauty cannot displace,
Libidinal urges aren’t sated by grace.
The sexual soul will never betray
Passion, its master, who it must obey.


The quest for fulfillment found in a peer,
Excuses the guilt and shuns the tears.
Fear of discover’y, amid groans of pleasure,
Whispers a promise of pain beyond measure.


Lascivious lies from lips without shame,
Convincingly swear the truth to proclaim.
But pain, foresworn, pierces the heart,
And rocks the union, ‘til broken apart.


Should the sexual soul ever find its true mate,
In the shadows of time cruel irony waits.
As in youth’s innocence the aged beholds,
A libido depleted, dormant and cold.


When flesh and bone have earned their rest
From the spirit, dispossess’d
The sexual soul escapes the grave,
Another mortal to enslave.