She reached out and no one was there
Her hand stretches out
And all around is a void
She retrieves it
The emptiness kills
Her hope wavers
Like a flickering flame
Passion is trapped
Deep
Way
Down

It hurts
It stews
It brews

Adeepache
From whose clutches
Youcannotescape

P

A

S

S

I

O

N

Is a no man’s land
A place of no return
The few who survive it
Leave their heart’s ashes in an urn

The rest of us live in her clutches

A child is born from the passion of two
The artist’s canvas is covered
In many a hue
The artist’s passion seldom understood but by a few

Then there is the passion of the widower
He buried her a spell ago
In a cold charcoal coffin
Next to his childhood love
Who grew wings and flew to the heavens above

The passion of unrequited love is the cruelest of all:
To love only to see none of it returned
By one who knows of that love
By one so trapped by fear
His love grew wings and flew to the heavens above
Where he thought it would be safe
Where he thought no one would go
Then one day he saw-
Her-
Standing there right where he left her
And he grew much afraid
Leaving her behind was his biggest mistake
And now all these years later
High mileage in his soul
His fears drowned her
Deep

Way

Down

Deepinsidehim

That sort of passion
Is one you never recover from
Just like a strange fashion
You try to own it and wear it
And it never suits you
Aaahhhh but if only you’d listen to your heart
That sort of passion
Is where your life should end and not start

EVA SANTIAGO copyright 2013