Divine Poetry - 2

INFINITE PASSIONS
Divine Inyang Titus

He can now touch his desire.
Run his burning fingers through
The consuming fire;
Yell at the the scalding heat;
With his confounded ardour,
His haunted zeal;
And his night is the victim of his fury,
No peace for them.
Marooned in his fervent longings
With a sizzling passion;
Fierce and almost..almost cursed.

True. Offspring of those two mighty stars
Of infinite passions;
Of war and love
Must have buried his arrow in him;
Let the golden head sink
Deep into blood and flesh,
And drawn from within
The darkest pigments of yearning;
Freed with a lasting wildness,
The guarded beasts of his lust.

No where to run from himself.
Tied to his shadow
By little, invisible strings
That would never cut.
As though now
His shadow represents his want;
His beserk needs to exercise
The starved limbs of his passion...

He will search sacred texts.
He will spill hot wax on his skin
And shriek, and scream, yet
Scouring in furious delirium for the spells,
The spells to undo this madness..
To appease this conflagration
For it burns as hot and as wild as hell.
And the pain is too deep,
For even the unknown parts of his soul
Writhes from its torture..

Then he will search for pain!
For that will be the only other alternative.
He will mutilate his body
And make clear incisions on his skin.
He will write the name of his passion
On his forehead, and he will make tattoos
Of its figure on his soul.
Still, he will not be sated,
Or even remotely at peace.
So he will scale to the top of the North Sister.
He will suck in the cold on bare skin.
He will hurl himself down from her peak
To the feet of his passion.
Still, he will not be at peace.

Then finally, after all is done;
After all have failed and blundered,
He will turn to his passion,
And embrace it,
Without fear or scruple,
And even if he is rejected,
He may yet have,
Some peace for the night.