Passion

What seemingly is my life
is an utter mess
without you.
My essence, and very existence,
-how could anything be,
without you.
How each moment, and
every little breath
as if intoxicated,
heave of you.
My strife- against this world,
my passion, and the pain I bear
belong to you;
This thirst can quench
solely by you.
My every thought
is of you.
Every moment, and
every little breath
as though addicted
heave of you.
Am I anything but you?