Passion.
It's inside of us all. Living and Breathing
We hold it in deep, our chest almost heaving
It's bitter, it's black, its the reason we sin
It is our true end, before we even begin
A reason, a thought, a twinge of our heart
it bleeds us out, it breaks lives apart
A blessing, a curse, emotions run deep
this demon inside, all of us keep
It can wake us, from a deep sleeping dream
ravishing our minds, shattering seams
It answers to no one, no person controls
It creeps into the farthest, and far reaching holes
depths unknown, it carries on still
creeping in darkness, crevices fill
A weakness, a strength, it is our undoing
try to ignore, but its whispers are wooing
Empty ourselves, hoping to find peace instead
but without our passions, we truely are dead.
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