Passion To A Stranger

Is it for love that we die?

For what so many people love to cry?

I think we need to start a quest

To find what is true in our heart.

The path of love is being faded

by what lust for love we have baited.

But was it ever so wrong

To start out so dumb and blinded

By the wits of our flings that

We should veer away from true love

Because we believe it to be a sin?

We should not allow love to begin

Because we are afraid of it.

It is the test of pure strength

When a lover realizes his worth

To the poor begotten girl, his trust.

The very girl that created passion within

The very girl that passion created.

It has been too far, far a note to say

That his life will be fulfilled with pain.

The love he has produced has been pure.

No hateful, hurtful tears will be shed.

The long, lonely night will not be spend alone.

We confess our love to a stranger

And the courtesy is not felt to him.

How cruel.