Pathos
At the end of the life of each ancient Greek, they only asked one question:
“Did he have passion?”
Pathos, the word for passion,
is now roughly translated as sorrow.
Many wars and shifts in reasoning
may had dulled or shifted the seasoning
the first original Eros, separated from erotica, enthusiasm, even simmering
the odd ducks, who crave to sit
upon the great thinkers’ laps,
reading their words loud to a captive audience.
But accents are often changed to get ahead, books hidden,
family names Anglicized, works authored by those only known
by their initials; holy writings favored
over romances, family duties lie waiting.
People love the wrong ones; passion becomes sorrow.
My love is covered in gaffa tape of pathos,
shifting between one extreme to the other,
caught in mid-suspension, barely breathing.
My passion, I keep it hidden
when the sorrows come creeping, finally letting it out of its cage
in the tender moments before sleeping.
http://www.carriemagnessradna.com.
Hurricanes never apologize by Carrie Magness Radna
Link from Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/hurricanes-never-apologize-carrie-magness-radna/1135406094?ean=9781950380725
