By: Gus Victoria
Memories not yet made
In the furnace of love,
That combustible crucible
That furnishes the blade
Upon which we all fall.
Lust is a hunger
Only ever delayed,
Never truly sated.
Conflict created
When two souls not fated
Play with temptation’s fire.
Burned in ectasy
To sinful ash.
Reborn in redemption.
Taking flight
To fall once more.
Whole again,
To break again
Upon the jagged crags
Of an unsheltered life.
No comments:
Post a Comment