sonnet What pain it is

What pain it is when one just levels lewd
As if a peeling scab asks scratch of itch
A massage tweak of capillary twitch
When prickly tingles track a nubile nude
An open gash is hot or cold when viewed
When partners push aside a final stitch
Join loin and loin as lovers hitch
And coitus interruptus comes off crude
A death wish built in genes one cannot fend
If animal if human devils mirth
When women keep on giving babies birth
A baby mongoloids a capping end
Of civilised and providential power
When washed away in cubicle of shower
Chorus power energy force