Wanting More Of You

I am a kind of breed;
Who never tells it’s enough;
I get high over the fundamental fact of human nature;
Which puts me in the map of greed;

It has always been you; I want more;
If I did have you for a minute;
I would crave you for an hour;
If I did have you for a day;
I would desire you for a week;

So, it’s only natural factor;
That I should have you for a year;
Which drags me for lifetime temptation;
To have your presence in my life;
The attendance of your presence;
Follows where ever I go;

Sometimes even thou you not there;
You’re like a living ghost, which haunts me;
When you’re not found around me;
I know it makes no logical sense;
To love another human being this much.
But I do which is you;

When it comes to you, enough is never enough;
The more I try to pull-out;
You trigger inside me, as my most profound addiction;
In a way that defies description,
As time goes by;

I keep wondering all the time;
How it is possible to love;
With another Human Being this much;
Which I do, with you, So I
Question my inner ethics;

Why I still crave you;
Why I still obsess over you;
I know it makes no logical sense;
Finding no such answer of Why?
No clause is applied to be physically present;

Which haunts me all the time;
To love another human being this much;
But I do, with you;
Nothing is ever enough;
I always want more;

One more Moment, One more day;
One more Kiss; Still just a little more;
When really anything;
Less than eternity will never be enough;

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  • Sangavi
  • Being In Love is Being in the second life of the fantasy; I keep myself drunk in poems where I live a life of all the poets;
    Emily Dickinson, ‘Much Madness Is Divinest Sense.’
    Anonymous, ‘Fowls in the Frith.’ This poem, which is around 800 years old, is ambiguous
    Oliver Goldsmith, ‘An Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog.’

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