Passion

by retrodiction

Pulsing through your veins is

A molten fire red.

Swift it comes and goes, yet

Stain it will, the host.

In dying embers grey,

Of winter black and blue,

No warm a fireplace as

 

In

The

 

Heart, and

Mind, and

Soul.

Hi, do leave a comment on what you think about this poem. I’m thinking of submitting it for a competition under the theme “Passion”. Your opinions are greatly appreciated! Thank you(:

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