Pyromancy, is what I fancy.
Living for heat, and getting burned;
There are few greater lessons that one can learn,
Than to deal with a fire that forever churns.

It's an agonizing dance filled with a torturous dread,
But it will ignite your heart with passion, once you gain a kind of tread.

Dance with me fire, I no longer fear your burn.
Entrance me, desire, show me what I must earn.

Clip these wings, don't let me sing.
A caged bird is a safe bird.
A caged bird. A lovebird.

A cage is not a home.

Body and mind.
What is one without the other?
Love and trust gone - torn asunder.
This is what one douth plunder
To take just the body, of another.

I am the graphite, in the pencil which you hold.
I make my appearances where you place me, and nowhere else.

You use me to scratch out your thoughts.
You use me to draw these lines of conformity, to which I wish not to abide.
But I must - as you create these lines from myself.

Write on, you hold the power the same way you hold me,
With a firm, yet slightly loose grip.
You hold all control.

"I do not wish for this."

I was once full, respectable and of use, but you have worn me down.
I have been degraded, and as simple graphite I can not simply put myself together again.
You have diminished my encasing, sharpened away my boundary's.

Shifting times -
The turn of a season.

It's a beautiful, and dramatic change
Which slowly envelops all life.

Coercing leaves to the ground,
And coaxing the cold white into making it's first appearance.

This change happens every year before our eyes -
Plants and animals all change their ways
Yet our habits stay the same.

Man does not react as efficiently as the rest of life;
Man does not always notice this vast change
Until he sees the final leaf fall from tree.