I say, too much passion in us poets,
like a touch of a thousand
saccharine taste invading our veins,
we cannot restrain, we
cannot condemned the only reason for our being,
passion is what keeps us breathing,
passion can make us see it all
different than others,
not to cease, not to die
or give-up, passion grows in our soul,
it reminds us it is there
every minute of our day,
when we need to count the hours
to get to him/her.
Passion is the sedactive to our worst day.
The essential of reason,
the way to a path,
to rivers and streams that find our dreams,
passion is a vessel making a net
reaching our heart our souls
keeping the beat louder and quieter in waves
frequencies, passion is vigor,
is a sparkle in our heart that continually
beats violently and has no outcome.
Passion is un 'Corazon salvaje'.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem