Twixt Duty and Desire
Sometimes we tend to meet some one
Who fans an inner fire;
And then we run the gauntlet twixt
Our duty and desire.
On one hand there is need to go-
To run and to obtain-
Yet speaks a quiet inner voice-
“It carries too much pain”.
There burns a raging furnace-
Deep within one’s soul-
From whence there comes the tragic tales
Of lust which life controls.
The broken homes and shattered lives-
To which no one aspires-
Are payment full for choices made-
Twixt duty and desires.
The vows do say, “Till death do part”-
And therein lies the beauty-
Desires are held in check by vows-
Those vows impose a duty.
Tis far too easy to give way-
To fleeting, fading lusts-
But vows and duty do impose
A lasting sacred trust.
Live large, people!