The Sickness of Desire

Seeking sweet delight in my dainty disturbances
My petite perturbations wring and wretch
I, sucking sweet nausea from dysfunction's marrow
Heave and wretch and suck some more
Justifying my normalcy
Comparing me to piteous mankind
I, a horror beyond, but reconciled above
Oh, masterful transformist, I
Illusion-maker
How easily thou dost make the false one true
Why do I feast on the thing that poisons me?
No reason will suffice
But raging I fight to better me
And reserve this right to further defiances
But when glutted I be with the sickness of desire
Wounded, I turn
And in pity, I yield
Then
When I do make myself nothing
When I dethrone and disrobe this carnal kingdom
When I quiet my railing commands
Then, gently Thou dost blow away manufactured me
My dust Thou carries on Great Winds
And the Heavens do celebrate my reunion
I reach The Immeasurable
Infinity doth tickle my soles
And Eternity lays a willing woman before me
For I have done naught
Save explode my being in Thee