A hurricane strikes;
Thy mind’s fickle forts . . .
Piercing moral barriers;
Tearing inhibition with wicked strokes . . .
Sucked into the vortex crown;
You willfully pay no heed . . .
Your character’s turrets falling down;
But nothing beats thy mind’s greed . . .
The tornado picks up pace;
With time you sink in disgrace . . .
Lust is what thy folly is;
Adultery written across thy face . . .
Chastity now should be sought;
Perhaps thy can mend thy ways;
The purity now of thy thought;
Can take thee through lonely days . . .
It’s the criticism and the comments that keep a poet alive, so please oblige me with your opinion. All reviews positive/negative appreciated. Thanking you in anticipation of your valuable critique.