My body wishes to live
She peaks and falters
In extreme swing.
Her youth yields
Her vigor and passion.
Spurring zest
For what most confuse as love.

But of course, my mind scolds.
Wanton desire - you crazed one!
Straying for your mother, Sin?
Be not a torment,
Lay idle and awaken
Only at convenient times.

Please grow up, and fair my poor soul
Well of all your counterfeit love.
Oh, that you might be thrust
Into the impossible vantages
Which you invite me to entertain.
But it seems you know nothing
Of impossible
So I pray thee to dabble in all the bitter sweetness
You provoke.

Would be fine, that thee
Leave me and all my passions curbed.
Living a life of the moderate,
Be it plain and unimaginative.
Is this the utopia found in dreams?

Yet without your pressing
What would any future hold?

So in this cycle
I believe my body will constantly sit,
Avoidance deemed inane.

Therefore entreat me to
Your lavish appeals
And take no heed
To the collections of
Downfalls you have so generously supplied.

But the few successes you have brought
Has made all my trifles worthwhile.