Man is a slave
Born without his consent
Schooled to accept his descent
And traits passed on by forebears
What blames and pains he forbears
She looks at him
With eyes dim
Sees the lust he does crave
For man is her slave
He has urges unschooled
Learning not as much as he’s fooled
His yearnings puerile as seen
Is a pawn for his teacher mean
She’s skilful with the snare
Yet ole conscience will not him spare
Against his will he turns out depraved
Man is enslaved
We all shake heads at him
He pervert we prim
Yet in him we watch our shame
Flesh and blood and sweat the same
Desires like fire glimmers
But spirit like light shimmers
If flesh outshines spirit’s wave
Man might die a slave
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