Emotion
By SRanfield
Emotion has no volume, A vast sense of feeling, Swamping those who have it. Killing, praising, saddening, Torturing, loving, weakening, All those who possess it. Pestilence to the mind, heart and soul. And the Cure. Purer than the whitest snow, More tainted than blood-soaked fields filled with war. The weapon of many, The weakness of many, Harnessed in all its power, By few. Brings forth laughter, Brings forth tears. Drains the memories, Of the dead and alive. Can bring painful sleep, And sweet dreams. Attacks the strongest with vanity, Purges the weak with despair. The raw power of emotion, Overfills the cup of life, Sweeps through the sands of time, Soaks the tears of many, The blood of the lost, The sweat of the prideful, The spirits from all who bear no shame. Written December 13th, 2001 © on Dec 12 2001 08:47 PM PST, SR 0 • 1
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"Emotion has no volume,..."