Medicine from the Devil: Lust

A Poem to Unveil the Truth About Lust

I’ve suffered from a terrible sickness of the soul. After accomplishing all of my goals and fulfilling worldly desires, I stood clothed as a king before the devil. Now, I stand naked before God. All that I acquired was vanity. For years, I was a servant of the devil, and it was the devil I looked to when I needed help. Lust was his medicine, and it was to Lust that I surrendered.

Insecurity and fear. That was the diagnosis. Lust was administered by the devil. A worldly Hell was the prognosis. If only I had known this sooner, I would have avoided Hell. Instead, I landed right in it, and the only way out, was through it.

This is a short poem on Lust—all types of lust¹—a disease of our generation. My goal is to bring truth to your suffering and light to your darkness, so you can join the fight against evil.

Know that as you read this, the great deceiver is at work.

The Punishment of Lust (1891) - Giovanni Segantini

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LUST HAS BECOME ME

Lust for money.
Lust for power.
Lust for friendship, acknowledgment, entertainment, adventure, humor, sex, escape—
I need it all.

When I finish dinner, my stomach aches for dessert.
When I pass a woman, my eyes shoot arrows at her hips.
When I sit in silence, my ears scream for music.
When I listen, my tongue twitches to speak.
When I see beauty, my body wrestles for release.

I have handed the wheel to lust.
Even my goals are now dressed in her garments.

I say I want money, a house, a car, happiness, adventure—
but truly, I want ammunition.

• Money, for power.

• A house, for status.

• A car, for luxury.

• Happiness, because it feels good.

• Adventure, because escape feels like freedom.

I do all things for myself, even when they seem for others.
When I serve, I admire myself.

“Look how kind I am.”
“Look how skilled.”
“I should tell someone.”

When I serve myself, I seek praise.

“Look at what I did.”
“Here I am. Aren’t you proud?”

At the gym, meal prepping, succeeding—
I pull out my phone to prove it.
Snap. Send. Validate.

When I’m bored, I crave stimulation.
When I’m alone, I crave company.
Always pulling—phone, screen, game, show.

I am lazy.
I lust for comfort.

I cannot sit with my thoughts.
The world calls. The flesh answers.
How can I sit still while the world spins?

In conversation, I barely listen.
I speak.

“What I have to say is best.”

I am drowning in lust.

I can’t receive advice without defending myself.
I excuse. I resist. I secretly believe I know better.

I rise against authority.
I doubt all truth.
I long for rebellion.

I am lust.
Lust has become me.

And lust cannot love.
But I need Love.

And as long as I live like this,
I will never taste it.
So I bury myself in pleasures,
in performances,
in denial.

And in doing so,
I starve myself of the one thing I was made for:
Love.

Love needs nothing.
Because Love is in everything.

And until I die to lust,
I will never live in Love.

1. Lust (noun) : a passionate desire for something