Love- a poem

by Gillian Long

What is this thing, this raging need
This tumbling water, this foreign seed
That grows in passion day by day
From where it came, I cannot say

What is this thing that cries to me
This yearning ghoul I cannot see
This dire spirit of possession
Growing into mad obsession

As days go by, I lose my thread
As misty dreams, fill my head
With crazy notions of the kind
That fog the corners of my mind.

Like a river rushing to the sea
My heart pumps wild ecstasy
With mad illusions I betray
My ravaged mind in such a way

My yearning folly calls your name
Hoping you may feel the same
Unless I speak, I will not know
Yet that is where I cannot go.

My ravaged heart quails on the brink
To take the plunge and yet I think
Rash judgment only takes me where
Peerless fools will only dare

Such foolish passion cannot be
A sane and proper destiny
As I lay bare my yearning need
And reason’s voice I do not heed.

For in the end I have no choice
As love is not a silent voice
Though reasoned logic will maintain
Abundant options to restrain


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