Passion belies the instinct of man
Where it embodies that of woman.
Tender the touch, the breath, the look,
Soft and piercing, a dagger to the heart,
A cry, a scream to the senses, love me or set me free.
Unleashed passion tames all that is wild in a lonely beast.
Loneliness belies the passion of man.
No rose can bring the scent to fill the emptiness.
No kiss can still the desire of an unseen vision.
Yet when finally the void is filled
It becomes the envy of ones own misery.
Discontent belies the comfort of man,
Always looking for things we have
Chasing the look, the dagger, the piercing scream.
Crying out in the darkness for desire,
the only friend we let close enough
to truly know us.
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