Passion

How many days can seem the same?
The storm that never leaves had came
And swallowed whole my plaintive cry
And danced around me in its eye,
Yet never even got a name.

These whipping winds, is this the game?
Or maybe I'm the one to blame?
If not too late to name you, why,
I might just name you Passion.

You swallowed me and overcame
The placid skies that left me lame.
And though you bend and rend on high,
And vie with reason and real life;
No fitter name is right to claim,
No better name than Passion.