TRAVAILS OF THE LOVESTRUCK

Where the mesmerizing powers of a pretty face emanate,

one can only surmise.
Although there is no denying its awesome presence
when it draws nigh.

It initiates surging emotions so strong and lasting
they defy containment and restraint.
Lifelong defences one is clothed with seem no match,
easily overpowered and overwhelmed.

Where does one get relief from such a malady?
For truly it is one.
Where does one go to forget and start anew
unfractured by its painful yearnings?

Are not such emotions fathered so they can be fulfilled,
and not seethe with frustration?
How does one’s sensual passions seek gratification?
Unless one resorts to flights of fantasy.

Still, one feels the eerie emptiness and deprivation
of such vicarious incursions to unreality.
For the actual experiences of touch and communion,
these cannot replace.

Devoid of bodily senses,
the soul must of consequence bear the heavier burden.
For so it’s deigned it must pursue its pleasures elsewhere,
this role the body assumes.

The body can be appeased by offering alternatives,
the soul will accept no less.
It cannot be deluded to accede to compromises,
and for thus it must agonize.

To the very end it drags with it the total man,
resulting in an utterly miserable departure.