The Temptress

By J. Lynne Moore

Vanished now the heart’s pure seed,
Conquered by her wretched deed.
His loving words she did not heed,
Lone, he stands, shattered, indeed.

A prisoner to her blackened heart;
Her love laid siege from the start.
Naked, his soul, was torn apart.
Now, he rues, Cupid’s poison dart.

Reality bled upon his desire…
As she kindled, another’s, bedroom fire.
He was left upon the circus wire;
Drowning in heartbreak’s mire.

The temptress fled the dire scene,
No honor or morals did she glean.
If only his heart could have foreseen,
Her wicked wiles and a soul unclean.

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