Oh passion how it loses its luster with eyes of old and hands of taint never to woo the love of past’s mistakes.
Oh how the well is dry between fiery eyes that once lit up the skies;
In the days I called you mine.
Yet, it still steams endlessly with youthful grip and fists clenched with heart.
Some let it flow like sand, never taking part….
In the right hands passion burns like no other sun!
The old becomes new under the watchful churn of breaking sweat..
Sweet as sin, those dark shadows give in and passion sweeps laying to rest the heart beneath your dying chest.
Copyright Eperez 2013