All Love Is Rot


All love is rot and purity is dead
The Virgin's blood is drunken by a leech;
The lecher has decap'd her maidenhead
And raped her virtue with a lover's speech.
True love does not manipulation know,
Nor understand unwed hypocrisy,
For lust deposes from his kingdom low
And sits at table with conspiracy.
Betrayal makes a stranger of a friend,
A confidant unwound by honesty;
His carnal pleasures only woman rend
And make a foreign tongue of modesty.
In flames of sin unbridled passions burn
From lust to lust; to lust we shall return.

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