The weight of passion sits so strong,
The result, a quiet kind of song.
Bring me lust, and flesh and joy.
My body dances, my soul implore.
Carry thy heavy heart, lost in love.
And bring to me folly, from above.
For if the night to end in dawn.
The sweat and sting becomes the song.
Its whistle, quaint yet does intrude.
Upon the mention of ones mood.
As roses grow, as roses bloom.
I wait for you inside a room.
The doors are locked, the windows shut.
Mindfulness it flocks, oh what a rut.
My eyes see you, in lingerie,
Of the deepest blue.
Until you reach and drink my blood.
My sweet, my only one.
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Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: October 20th, 2025 11:42
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 24
- Users favorite of this poem: Friendship
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Comments2
A vampiric poem that builds until its reveal. A good write
Thank you for reading and commenting
You are most welcome
Well written, my friend, your poem revolves around the intense emotions associated with love, desire, and longing. It explores the dual nature of passion — its beauty and its burdens — highlighting a yearning for physical and emotional connection with a beloved.
Thank you for your remarkable interpretation. Its always appreciated. 🙂
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