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.
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