First Passion Poem by me poet yeps poet

Passionate love
pierces from within
like a sword of Hercules

and
when it penetrates

think of him/her
who accepts it as a sin

but

is happy really

as passion is love and lust
an admixture

you call yourselves poets
yet feel shy
to accept the force
both initially

before a child is created
and
when it forces itself

out of the tightest
darkened valley

makes any mom yell
and
the mountains echo

then suddenly subsides
The loudliness
into a mellow

no echo
smiles only
as the new born
criesfor milk

my mommy

she has a tear of joy