fire

warm is the winter
burnt for our discontent.
shiver me summers.

slippery day is quick.
nighttime i never knew you.
the breath of sorrows.

the name of the game
is how can everyone win?
amongst the assholes.

can we mine sadness?
how about burying it?
upending the earth.

the fighting for scraps.
the racing chariots roar.
this is not sparta.

in the night time of my life
when the world was its blackest
i saw you standing there at the edge.
on the precipice of love and death
your soul was ablaze with hope.
a bonfire of light in a dark world.

and yet you still leaped into that void
as if searching for a drowning man.
but i was behind you
suffocating in the air of fragility.

the river of hope, silvery in the moon’s grin
caught you in its wet, soft arms.
and you were swept downwards
towards the open embrace of a dark delta.
where the ocean drinks from the blood of the land.

your soul a dying ember like a flickering orange beacon
until you were no longer seen
drowned in all the world’s tears
that flowed from my heart
warm as my blood, dark as my soul.

and in the mirror of the grinning moon
i sung songs of sadness and empty rooms.
only the noise shattered the sky
and shards of stars pierced my eye.

that love could be blind in a time of famine
and fill bellies with rotting gammon.
torn from the flesh of Dante’s mammon.

pierce the dark with guttural cries
stabbed in the back with shards of lies.