the gamble
they had a torrid affair,
gambling all life's pleasure
to seek the satisfaction
of their own desires.
the pain it caused was
never ending with each
life affected, crumbling
piece, by fragile piece.
to learn all life's painful
lessons in one seemingly
innocent moment. it ended
abruptly, as each had a
moment of conscience to
stop them from the destruction.
9 comments:
Nicely done poem!
I'm certainly no expert and I've had to ask for help with that, too. This is how i do it and it seems to work most of the time. Just substitute < and > for the brackets:
[a href="your post address"]what you want to show[/a]
Hope this helps!
it just leaves me wondering if they would do it again... torrid is not just your garden variety love.......
thanks linda, and paisley, that is the million dollar question isn't it.
As I see it, there's two types of love - infatuation, which eventually changes to deep companionship. But if another infatuation strikes ...
... you can so easily mistake the latter as not love at all.
Torrid can never be love! Lust yes, Passion, yes!
word by word
I'm not so sure I agree with Gautami. Torrid can be a way to start something that leads to love.
Clearly, not here, Leigh. I like "as each had a moment of conscience" -- that's my favorite line.
I often wonder, like Paisley, if we wouldn't gamble everything for a torrid kind of love.
doesn't happen often...to walk away and not turn around...
The "torrid"ness is very apparent in the fervent manner in which the words have been laid out .. nice done.
Just wondering if with the frenzy of passion and emotion running so high ..would it be possible to suddenly feel the twinge of conscience ? Passion and Rationality are rarely bedfellows :)
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