Passion burns,
It's the fire in our hearts.
Our life force,
Conserving the contents of our souls.
But passion, does not burn
Like the loving cabin hearth.
Rather,
It burns like an orange Bic lighter.
It'll keep you warm,
In the desperation of winter chill.
But it'll also keep a cigarette lit.
Passion left uncheck,
Will so easily morph to obsession.
Such a dangerous thing,
That makes life so worth living.
A tightrope dance,
The fine line between
Between warmth,
And inferno.