Thirst

Cold glass of water,

On a hot summer day.

You only want more,

As the sun burns your face.

Faces to tempt you,

Words to excite.

Passionate journeys,

Like flames to ignite.

Refreshingly sinful,

The glass to your lips.

Down your hot throat,

Spills the cool, wet bliss.

To your hot core of being,

It crashes like waves.

Sizzling, steaming,

More water you crave.

The sweeter it tastes,

The more you desire.

But water alone,

Cannot put out your fire.

And the quench of your thirst,

Would not be so sweet,

If the water was there,

Every day at your feet.

When you’re thirsty and fear,

That you might burn alive,

I’ll bring you cool water,

‘Til the fever subsides.

But remember the fable,

Of the man and the well.

When your water runs dry,

You’ll be burning in hell.