The Spoils and Sweetness of Passion

It overwhelms us Passion is impulsive and possessing Passion is reckless, yet it's benevolent at the same time When passion ripens like sweet fruit it's love; but, when it's like bitter poison it's hate Between love and hate There appears to be a big difference But, there's no difference they're the same in every single way The method in the way that they're used is what makes the feign contrast seem to exist Passion is a thriving garden That is flourishing with life and beauty that is ambient Passion is a cemetery Filled with agony and covered in dried roses and briars It will consume us Will it make us vulnerable or weak? How will we use our medium passion; will it be belligerent or peaceful? Love and hate is a part of something we don't understand, will it kill or save us?