But passion keeps us alive.

I think about it often and much:

Why do we hide from that which we love? 

We fear passion will kill us,  

But passion keeps us alive. 

Idly watching the world pass by,  

Is what helps make our grave. 

Those with burning hearts are called fools,  

As they chase after the sun while barely shielding their eyes,  

People laugh as they fall through the atmosphere,  

But as the flames envelop, they do not say their goodbyes.  

No, they continue the fight even as they are weary,  

And some accuse them of losing their mind. 

Well what good is having a sound brain  

If your body is kept in a bind? 

Sometimes it’s nice to sit in the forest,  

And examine the trees as they grow,  

Wishing someday you’d be one of them,  

With your wisdom, you’ll peacefully get old. 

But how does one approach the peaceful end,  

If there has never been war in one’s time?  

For tranquility is not merely the absence of pain,  

But rather a result of overcoming the adversity of life.