Classic Poem

Out of my body's carnival, no dream
Has come aflame, no brandfire toward a goal.
I have allowed the flesh to ride supreme
Over the fortalices of my soul.
I said: I would not suffer, would not live
The cycle of the senses. I would fly
The dim haunts of my body, fugitive
From the world's glamour and the hot blood's cry.

Came then the battle. Naked to the bone
I sank in the arena of desire,
Doomed utterly, because the flesh is fire
And all the barricades were overthrown.
Now in the alien night my cry is heard
Only by ghosts who do not speak a word.