A Wilde Life - in Six Parts

Dear Oscar said that everything is sex,
But sex, and sex he said was lust for power,
I think to some extent that he was right,
But somewhere in this Holy Mess is love.
Or “love’s desire” if that’s more right for you
For so life’s spent in such pursuit for me.

But every tried success was fail for me,
Although I found certain success with sex,
But when I think of life’s success it’s you,
For you ran quick before I stole your power,
(all hidden in my warped pursuit of love).
To run, of course, your life has proven right.

But with you gone I thought my anger right,
And I began drunken pursuit of me.
Delivered up foolish pursuits of love,
And love became a raw pursuit of sex.
In music, booze, and sex I sought my power,
To push myself from every thought of you.

All while you sought the betterment of you,
And followed through on all your heart thought right,
In fearlessness, I never knew that power.
Reached out at times and tried to contact me,
But all I wanted from you was your sex,
And when denied cried unrequited love.

Headlong for death pursued in name of love,
And blaming every stupid move on you.
Convinced myself there was no love just sex,
And all my friends convinced me I was right.
So one bad night I put an end to me
(To kill myself required greater power).

But that life ends and with it that life’s power,
And with that, sought less harmful brand of love.
I settled in a duller form of me,
That finally sealed off the door to you,
With different love that’s safer, if not right.
And nights pursued with boring, safer sex.

So, yes, it may all be pursuit of sex,
Except for me that never made it right,
For me was always right pursuit of you.

(Submission for the Sestina Competition)