The barefoot philosopher

The barefoot philosopher
Making Delicate Footprints Across the Sands of Time..

Sunday, June 22, 2014

Passion's Inferno



Like a moth drawn to a flame, It lures 
Like a ship without a sail, it crashes into the wind
Like match set to dynamite, the inevitable explosion tantalizes
Like fire set to a dry forest, undoubtedly the burning consumes
It is thought to be star crossed
Yet it favours clashes of the mighty gods


To know this conflagration you must become the moth
To experience its turbulence you must be sail-less on the sea
To feel the explosion the dynamite must be free to play
To be consumed the forest must be allowed to turn to ashes
There is no contemplating it, 
To know is to be totally immersed in it


The flame is unforgiving
The sea is hopeless to douse it
The explosion will ever set the sparks free
The ashes may later be looked upon with foreboding
Yet there is no power to resist the scalding


Star crossed lovers or nay this is pure fire play
If you kiss the sun you get seared
Open to the heat you come to know the eternal burn
When the embers are doused the memory is set ablaze
Once you stick you finger into the flame
Forever you will feel the sweet pain


The inferno is ever raging
A torrent can never douse it
Even winter's frost is matchless against it
It sizzles it cracks unrelenting and timeless
As time subsides the simmering embers awaits a gust
A zephyr whispers and once again passion's inferno is ignited