The Poem With No Title
It’s burning within the self
A passion that blinds
Driving crazy the mind
The line separating
Logic and reason from irrationality and fear
Blurs mixing thoughts together
But only one really stands out
Brighter than all the rest
The yearning want
The craving of the other
Souls bound together-
Is what is craved
Like a drug
Over and over- drawn back
One to the other
Wanting
Waiting
Yearning
For that one feeling
That indescribable-
Passion; fleetingly
Pulsating in dreaming wistfulness
Returning
Over and over again
Never…
To be satisfied
For long…
Always returning…
…for more
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