Behemoth Passions
A poem
I have a life to prove I’m everything but a
failure and a run-down tramp. My taste was
settled on obsolete feelings as I hankered for
those sure delights crowning the frailty of
womenfolk.
The past was loveless and the expulsion by
affection was searing hot. So I remade my
fantasies, objectifying many stellar mind snippets.
I did all to satisfy an ungodly craving within lest
the demands of my soul go awry.
My tears called for therapeutic angels and
an enlivening squad rich with tricks to facilitate
love and water the plant of romance. The
penury of my heart sat scarce with scanty
enterprising affections — bankrupt with the
joy of community.
But I made my demands soak weight and had
them gain traction and momentum. My tears
were old and stale so it was useless having
winds of emotion sweep by.
Pride was an offspring in my heart — I appeared
egoistical when I really wasn’t, and I…
