Emptiness of the Flesh

Sex without Love
Is Man's Paradise.
No names, no connection
Save to hide from the world
Within one another
Locked into the Flesh
Devoid of Spirit
Momentary, Carnal Surrender
Of Reason and Identity
To Lust and the Now.
Thrust deep and lose yourself
In that dark hole
As your quiet heart
Thunders in your ears
Beating like a beast
Upon the bars of your ribs.
And as that Flesh
Consumes your soul
You may find masochistic pleasure
In that sweet, short
Bitter orgasm,
That short-lived spark
Of corrupted Creation
Before your feverish form goes rigid
And the Life spurts out of you
And you collapse falling far and fast
From your self-absorbed Xanadu,
Mindless of those below you,
Screaming into oblivion
Before the silence takes you.