Sonnet 129
The expense of spirit in a waste of shameIs lust in action; and till action, lustIs perjured, murderous, bloody, full of blame,Savage, extreme, rude, cruel, not to trust,Enjoy'd no sooner but despised straight,Past reason hunted, and no sooner hadPast reason hated, as a swallow'd baitOn 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 heaven that leads men to this hell.
To listen to basest need, lust,creates in me poisonus thrustto plumb the unplumbed but once I've succumbed,I only feel deepest disgust.