passion

passion

Why must I be so true to thee?

Thy plight you force upon mine soul.

Thou know what fate hath wrought on me:

a wave of doubt with no control.

I fight in vain against the sea,

drowning slowly, Life takes its toll..

You take from me and leave debris --

This emptiness that once was whole.

Sorrow of past come back to be,

and hence I see the foolish knoll.

Twas me that buried myself not ye,

yet you were caught in that same hole!

I know not what passion hath wrought,

but better are we, apart than not -