If love be love then I was n’er untrue—
For love and lust have ever been the twain.
True love cannot sweet promise misconstrue,
And to staunch hearts, remains its guiding flame.
Lust is the shadowed all consuming beast
That feeds on flesh and weak unguarded souls,
Blinding its prey with wanton devil dust,
Perverting passion for the devils’ goals.
But denizens of dark do fear the light
Of fervor that is truly heaven blessed,
And surely as a torch allays the night,
Fades to pitch black, until the next behest.
For love’s enduring flame burns ever on—
Lust rages at the moon, and then is gone.

©Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.