It burns its great,
who would want to escape?
Its like nothing that I know,
that I have felt.
Existing desire,
consuming each breath.
Totally pleasing,
chilling to flesh.
Controlling the mind,
consuming the soul.
An impossible question,
the answer unknown.
Not seen by a vision,
no mirage to be shown.
A dream shared by both,
but a nightmare alone.
It can be a magnet,
that pulls two souls together.
Or a magnet that pushes,
them away to wherever.
It cant be controlled,
but it can be denied.
Although truth exist,
we can view it has lies.
Like a sound that is felt,
with no need to touch.
It is just like a drug,
you cant get enough.
saint cynosure ( Ken Bennight )
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/love-993/
