Sonnet 129

Th’ expense of spirit in a waste of shame

Is lust in action; and till action, lust

Is perjured, murd’rous, bloody, full of blame,

Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,

Enjoy’d no sooner but despisèd straight,

Past reason hunted, and no sooner had,

Past reason hated, as a swallow’d bait

On purpose laid to make the taker mad;

Mad in pursuit and in possession so;

Had, having, and in quest to have, extreme;

A bliss in proof, and proved, a very woe;

Before, a joy proposed; behind, a dream.

All this the world well knows; yet none knows well

To shun the heav’n that leads men to this hell.

But about lust: the waste of spirit

On an endless, fruitless quest,

For shame, not honor, the wrong light lit,

Seduced but not blessed;

Not enjoyed; once had, it’s over;

Pursued, past reason, with adrenaline;

And then, it leaves the lover

Confused, past reason, again;

Crazily hunted, and crazily had;

Extreme before, during, and after;

Never enduring; in some sense, sad;

Paradise in fantasy, never ending in laughter.

I think we know this, or feel we should:

Yet who’s left hell for heaven for good?