The Passion and the Fury

A tempest is who I am
A furious storm

Of existence

It waxes and it wanes,
Through the laughter and the pain

Each time, a subtle change

Fury

Raging uncontrolled,
Consuming the very depths of my soul,
Latching on, not letting go

It is not a negative thing,
Not truly, what this passion brings

Indeed, it makes me sing

It can be angry and almost uncaring,
Typically leaves you staring

Hopefully, in wonder

It roars and it soars,
Sometimes leaves me face flat upon the floor

Often, in a room with no doors

In truth, it is a prison,
Each day, a million facets of the prism

That is me

Fractured,
And on fire

It seems I make my fuel,
Burning everything, as a rule
In the end I

Am simply just a tool

A weapon

Forged in sickness and in sorrow,
Hoping so much for tomorrow

Faith,
Does not abandon me

Nor I it

Living in the moment, in today,
Knowing there will always be a way

If only I truly open my eyes and look

Into the deep darkness that is me,
Sweeping aside sweet misery

Knowing that hope, is my destiny

You speak of salvation and of grace,
Please, lay one gaze upon my face

I can tell you how it tastes

Living in the passion and the fury,
Every single moment can seem so blurry

Because it is comprised

Of everything

jlp May 23, 2014