To the crimson dusk of passion’s embrace,
Lust, the first sin, reveals its grace.
A dance of desire, such perilous art,
Are flames so ardorious to consume the heart.

Beneath the rouge cloak of desire,
Deep within ecstasy’s grasp to embers inspire.
Peril lurks in the bliss tread,
As the soul entwines in passion’s thread.

Blood lust whispers in the silence of night,
A crimson hunger of unholy rite.
Desire, the dagger with edges serrated,
To the scarlet theater where hearts palpitate.

The red hues of temptation’s rise,
As the tapestry of lusts, untold lies.
Yet beware the allure of passion’s song,
For in its depths, one may lose too long.

Lust, the crimson sin, a tempestuous fire,
In the realm of passion, where hearts conspire.