A spark of love begins as beauty, then turns

to a bonfire of less light than lust to infest

the veins pumping primal passion. It burns

as an obsession of one belief before engulfing the rest.

Do not expect a fountain of learning

to extinguish the flames within the chest.

Men's actions owe not the head for yearning-

-the stabbing and beating resounds in the breast.

The outward appearance might act to conceal,

desperately to hide,

the uprising immolation inside.

But our ungainly actions tend to reveal

that the powerful emotions pent in reserve,

are the only masters we consistently serve.