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?
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