Sex Sans Passion Is Sin Sans Soul

vikas chandra

The cost of, last night’s rhapsody
The price of love, to pay its toll!
I don’t recall, why I, left thee
O! My lusty heart, to my sinning soul!

What had spent us, instinct or itch?
Which we drank, with our, barren lips
What spurred, our hearts, to then bewitch
Nectar of love, over poison sips!

That quest of mine, beyond your skirt
And your conquest, o’er my lust
Was all it for, that seminal spurt?
For which, we lost, our love august!

Yet, one more night comes; knocks our door
With the pain, of a paradox, we extol
To whisper by, love’s, lust’s metaphor
“Sex Sans Passion, Is Sin Sans Soul”!

© 2018 Vikas Chandra

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