I placed my hand upon my heart,

Reluctantly bound to fall apart.

It wasn’t him I missed,

A shackle of emotional twists.

It was almost elemental,

Spellbound by a siren’s instrumental.

A longing unmatched,

A need perpetually unscratched.

Endlessly lusting, always parched,

Wandering a desert, forward I marched.

Dehydrated, starving, adrift in delirium,

A distant glimmer of water, a delusional collyrium.

Rushing towards it, lips cracked and yearning,

Water turned to sand, eyes angered and burning.

It’s not longing that haunts me, but the specter of fear,

Raw, unyielding lust subservient to a puppeteer.

Will it ever be more than just a mirage,

An illusion determined to sabotage?

An endless journey to no prevail,

Holding my breath, afraid to exhale.

Earth beneath my feet, wind propelling me higher,

Waiting for the day that water turns to fire.

Poems desire illusion lust mirage