Burning desire
Born of shadowy fire
The flames soar ever higher
They make one into a liar.
Can they be quenched?
I know not
They fester. They pulse. They rot.
The need to be forgot
Perhaps to simply stop.
Before one’s mind is lost.
Water, only makes them brighter.
Gallons poured on, everything now lighter.
Sand, only turns to glass
Showing thoughts that never last.
Showing failures of the past.
These flames. They burn
Within ones soul they twist, they turn.
An unholy tide that writhes and churns
Lessons forgotten. Never learned.
RedRavenPoems 
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