Lust—the expense of desire and shame in acting on it—is presented as a psychological and moral catastrophe: maddeningly pursued, quickly despised, and a trap no one can escape.
Lust is never one thing: before action it is perjured, murderous, bloody; after action it is despised; in pursuit it is hunted past reason; once obtained it is hated as bait. The poem denies lust any stable identity, showing it as purely relational—it only exists in the tension between wanting and having. This makes it psychologically precise about compulsion: the satisfaction only triggers the next cycle.
Line 13-14 state the sonnet's painful truth: 'All this the world well knows yet none knows well / To shun the heaven that leads men to this hell.' Knowledge is useless. Everyone understands the cycle intellectually but cannot exit it because desire overrides reason. This prefigures modern understanding of addiction and compulsion—knowing is not the same as being able to stop.
Like the compulsive pull of scrolling dating apps at 2 a.m. knowing you'll hate yourself afterward. The poem captures modern sexual anxiety: the maddening cycle of wanting something, obtaining it, feeling disgusted with yourself, and then repeating. It's the void that can't be filled but always pulls you back.