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How fearlessly some charge into lust’s fervent flames,
Though they may burn to ashes and dust in those flames.

Oh, but the lengths to which lovers willingly go 
Cursed by Eros sweet madness they must dance in flames.

Each day and each night craving that special delight
No matter if all else may soon burst into flames.

How he smolders and burns with passion to ignite
Her, know the fragrance of her sweet musk in his flames.

How she yearns for his arms holding her close to him 
And the sound of their heartbeats at dusk in her flames.

Secret rendezvous, quiet chambers, their furnace,
With only each other’s charms to trust in those flames.

Sol sinks his mighty fire slowly into the sea
And their deep embrace is shadowed just as those flames.

In that furnace where they meet at last, both ablaze,
They exhaust and satiate with each thrust into flames.

It may be that one may appraise them with caution
And warn that they will burn in the gusts of loves flames.

But do they hold themselves in regret or wounded, 
Spent, from tumultuous hours at dusk in those flames?

Carnal pleasures in life they have known, to be sure,
May be far better than being a husk in the flames.

Across the skies as meteors flare, so briefly,
All of us come to ashes and dust in such flames.

So alas, although I may be Theophilus†
I too succumb to the fires of lust, lost in flames.

†Theophilus is a mystery figure in the New Testament. Among many different views it is considered an honorary (academic) title. In Greek “theophilos” means “friend of God” or (be)loved by God” or “loving God”. [Source:]



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