Saturday, October 29, 2005

Desire unlimited

The first smell of desire
In something your heart begins to take notice in
Sneaking upon you liking an unsuspecting victim
The doors to the room of desire are always left open
They feed upon you as you upon them
The eyes always look up
The hands are always outstretched
In this room of desire.
There are numerous doors uncounted
In this room of desire.
The kernel of a desire becomes the
Oak tree of passion
and engulfs all in its wake
and grows in the room of desire
Continuousy fed with fire of want
which is occasionally satisfied and
Sometimes dies a painful death
Till another kernel is planted.

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