Fatal Passion Poem by Anna Naumovych
Fatal Passion
Least said
And soonest mended
Your words are destructive,
Can't you see?
How long, oh God, have I waited:
Such unproductive
And useless thing.
The boiling point
Quite close
I keep myself
In hand
Strained, artificial pose
On my way
To hell.
Without wasting words,
Without telling nonsense,
Without straining cords,
Without making comments.
I had an attack
Of blues
And getting drunk
Was my salvation
But now I have to choose
To keep or junk
My fatal, suffocating passion.
But now I have to choose To keep or junk My fatal, suffocating passion. a good poem telling the truth of desire and intense passion and love. tony
Well articulated and nicely penned from the heart. Thanks for sharing Anna.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/7/2024 10:11:20 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I had an attack Of blues And getting drunk Was my salvation..my fatal suffocation and passion....... pray, bring God in y our life..... God will change everything. tony