Like a kindled fire it smokes
Upon the wood it grows
With no ventilation it chokes
Turning thy friends to foes
From thy tongue in thy cheek the flames doth crack
With the empty words we billow
Tears of sap seep with each fiery snap
As we burn the weeping willow
Withdraw the wood from thy furnace
And if the charred remains ever smolder
Then inward thy glare must turneth
For these flames shall make thee ever colder
May 16, 2021
May 16, 2021 at 12:38 AM UTC
Like a kindled fire it smokes
Upon the wood it grows
With no ventilation it chokes
Turning thy friends to foes
From thy tongue in thy cheek the flames doth crack
With the empty words we billow
Tears of sap seep with each fiery snap
As we burn the weeping willow
Withdraw the wood from thy furnace
And if the charred remains ever smolder
Then inward thy glare must turneth
For these flames shall make thee ever colder