Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, SIN, by CHARLES BAUDELAIRE



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First Line: For me the most foul demon still doth plot
Last Line: Of gory ruin with her wounds a-gape.
Subject(s): Lust; Sin; Temptation


FOR me the most foul demon still doth plot;
About me like the imponderable air
He flows. I drink him, and straightway am hot
With shameful lusts the tongue may not declare.
And since he knows how I love form, he wins
My soul in woman's guise, or else he'll tell
Some pious tale of washing out my sins
To tempt me to a draught that's brewed in Hell.
He leads me far away from God's clear eyes,
Halt and most sore still am I onward lured
To endless plains of speechless miseries,
Whereon unto my weary eyes and blurred
He shows red scars, foul raiment, and the shape
Of gory Ruin with her wounds a-gape.





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