Desire

I am desire cloaked in the skin of my father,
dressed in the cloak of my mother.
I am pain born out of a volcano,
bursting from my strongest desires.
If I am to carry poison in my heart,
let it be known I’ll only accept the best of quality.

Neither the valueless or those wrought by unkind hearts will ever feed,
my smitten body I have hated.
Only in giving value even in poison,
I may feed myself whole again.
For if I even ain’t able to honour poison,
how am I to honour thy holy elixyr?

For to drink of one I must meet the other.
In passing through the gates of scrutiny,
I’ll never discern which is which but through experience.

In experience thus I’m cloaked that neither can withhold me from my truth.
Each must in value rise, if thou wishest to find the next step on which to place a footing sure.