Desire

Why am I still here?

Why do the wicked still near?

Should I not gain my will?

And what does to want desire feel?

A simple word of pain,

But where is it stands a friend,

For as long as I breathe,

How much should trouble be sheath?

As a lover it said,

Till Death do us bedded,

But one stays forgotten,

And one stays fortunate, as rotten;

Likewise desires were damned cold,

Should I believe for it was to be told,

My heart won’t freeze to frost,

As I desired you the most.

Freed