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Click hereWhat is passion
But desire fanned
As flames by the wind.
Whipped out of shape
Forced where it may not want to go,
Yet exhilarated by the ride.
Pushed relentlessly onward
Against all reason,
Unable to stop even if life depended on it,
Tearing through the terrain,
Consuming all and all consuming.
Exploding at the hottest point,
Until all that remains is white ash
Smouldering in memory.