The Flesh Is Weak

When the past impressions gathered uncoil The spirit gets encased in the mortal coil Ages past they are lying buried deep; curled Incarnate as human, when get unfurled. Once in bodily frame, the play of elements Asserts with expression of all rudiments With an interplay of the three basic traits Combine to express in different proportions. Then commences the jigsaw puzzle; intensely Pulling up and down the corridors; ruthlessly Placing the spirit ever on tenterhooks; awfully No escaping from the drama nearly permanently. The cravings of flesh clamour for the fleeting Joys that are no joys in the true sense of being For release, the spirit persists in its yearning But the flesh is weak though the spirit is willing.