My Internal Struggle

I see her, and oh, how my heart wants, my eyes feed upon that which is truly God’s perfection. My body aches in her presence…Speak! Speak I must! But words as heavy as lead, can’t pass my lips…silence, pure silence. Yet again I struggle to converse, thinking to push out words soft as silk, and the throat grows slender, disallowing speech. Words once fresh in my mind, now lay dead, unused and now rotting like old meat, oh how my mind lays tainted! My eyes still fixed on the figure, still feeding, and from within the heart weak from hunger, unsatisfied settles back into a state of near death, scarred for life, injured for eternity