Death of Passion

counts for anything one is passionate about.

You've lost, mirrored images flow from the mind.
You see a repetitiveness, it does not ebb.
Like an ocean who's tide never rises.
It slowly just retreats to the corner of your mind.
You try to run, and not look back.
But you cannot understand this death.
Simple really, this death.
You've lost, its the end of  the line.
Without it, whats the point?
You cant do it.
It'll never be more than mediocre.
You run, and not look back.
But hesitate, and it catches you.
Like a lion upon its prey.
It has you  in vice grip.
Can you escape?
This is death.
Not of the physical.
But of Passion.
 

Reviews

[Chloe..Across the Unive..]

To lose one's passion would be one of the worst things ever.
You have cleverly written how it is to feel this .. I can relate to this on many levels as i am sure others will.
A very nice couplet:

"You've lost, its the end of the line.
Without it, whats the point?"

Passion is something we all need to hold on to .. no matter what the passion may be .. this is a well written poem.

Chloe