Soul Sifting

Nothing more than
touch and taste, 
The burden of
the slave.

Longing for a
fiercer passion
that defies even
the grave.

An energy
of depravity
misread by
the living

and somewhere deeper
still to find
is more i
could be giving.

And always still
it stops at that
which feasts on
only flesh

And so it is
with just a shell
my soul must
search afresh.

In frantic fear
my angry heart
beats in this
wretched cage

locked inside
this hell ive made
lost in passions
wild rage.

From soul to soul
in misery
unsated i
have crept

Feeding every
hunger there
while deep
inside ive wept

3/2008