Sunday 13 January 2008

Scorching Winter Flames


The scorching heat,
Blistering my skin.
The fumes alive,
Kicking dust at me.

The tongues of fire,
Licking up at me.


I sit back, in shambles,
Well shielded from the cold-
The scorching winter flames.


And I feel the heat waves,
Torrid, aimed at me,
Striking, on cue,
Broiling lava ebbing.
And the layers of myself,
Melt away.


And I sit back, in shambles.
Well shielded from the cold-
The scorching winter flames.


Watching you, stare at me,
Well cloaked,
This winter morn,
I find the cold aloof glares,
Outpour, from you.
And I find myself burn,
In the sizzling fierce heat.


And I sit back, in shambles.
Well shielded from the cold-
The scorching winter flames.

1 comment:

  1. The paradoxes innate to this composition give one such a vivid picture of both the tangible and the intangible...

    Intense indeed as the flames that devour one with passion...

    Loved it, sash!!

    ReplyDelete

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