Lust

Lust conquers, indifferent to its delusions, monstrous vanities bloom in me like giant jungle flowers, those kind that eat ya. Lust, clinging and craving, want to rip the heart out of this or that man, fleeting object of desire, and devour it as it beats, dripping, ah, oh. Lust conquers like demon warrior, leaving me without will or sense, trembling in bizarre bemusement, tides of lust I neither accept nor reject but suffer in a drowning swoon. In utter silence this occurs, invisible to the naked eye, it comes and goes uninvited and unrejected, alien and strange and in the end empty of all existence.