If I cannot direct these fiery flames,
then let them engulf me entirely.
Leaving not a single hair uncharred.
Sparing no feeling, only memory.

You run for me, pail of water in hand.
The water rises, and the water falls.
Like raging waves on a vengeful sea -
Like the betallion of tears in your eyes.

Alas, it hits ground - my arm left outstretched.
Confusion and betrayal paint your face.
Angels like you, can't comprehend this hate.
While I generously give and take it.

Should I fail to control this raging gift;
I would rather be consumed than lose it.
Extraordinary failure suits me,
ordinary success just never did.

this kids,
is how you do it

in the mid of the dark hours,
when two am is your new oldest friend
when sleep, your oldest old one,
left town on the midnight train,
taking your peace of mind

though she is far away
lost in dream-thoughts caught,
but only twelve inches close,
granting you an unasked permission,
you ok to stroke her hair,
undisturbing her, yet comforting yourself,
every voice in your temple'd altar praying,
one glorious chorus godly chant:

Oh Lord, what would I do without her?

and you stroke her hair and are saved.


2:51am

May 2014