Love

Love...
...like a moth consumed by its passions,
burning hotter than the sun,
Beseeching end of lonely sensations,
by flirting the edges of sanity's final run.
Oh to dance around flickering flame fire,
Slowly devoured by heats touch lingering,
No cessation to innermost desire,
Till consumed of madness singeing.
Love...
...momentary like deaths end,
But sought with a passions trend!