I sit here at night, eyes burning, nose running;
I should be in bed.
But even in my state, my mind runs away from me,
going back to the old watering holes,
to places it should not be going.
I sometimes ask my:
"Is this a test from God?"
If it is, I must be doing poorly, because I fail
again and again.
If only the fire of my love for God
could burn as hot as the fire of my lust,
or come so easily to mind.
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