It started like being under a spell
A spell that
slaved your sons to lust
Lust after her
seductive gaze of beauty
Beauty peculiar
to that same linage
That same linage
of Jezebel
Jezebel the sole
perfection of lust
Lust masqueraded
as unconditional love
Love expressed
in harmonious poetic lies
Lies that made
canal desires to leap
Leap within,
that it might to reality lead
Lead you down
the garden path of folly
Folly in filling
your insatiable cup of lust
Lust on its loveliness,
on what you see
What you see and always
want to ‘know’
(…it is your
amoral cycle of lust)
