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May 2015
He's fire-
With flames ever soaring,
My heart they're engulfing-
Destroy everything around.
He burns me away
And I love the pain.
I scream and the fire swallows it down.
He devours me whole
And scorches my soul.
God it hurts-
But I want more.

You're the rain.
I ride out your storms
Because inside I'm torn
On whether or not I should stay.
When it burns and I'm all dried out and alone
You send me a shower of love and of home.
Sometimes you trickle down softly,
So comforting,
But sometimes you leave me with a drought
and I'm prone to fire.
When you're gone too long I build my funeral pyre.

I love the rain but I'm enchanted by flames.
One soothes and washes away the pain,
The other will **** me-
I'm sure of this.
But the burning is such awful bliss.

Turn me to ash and I'll smile as I fade away into nothing,
Yet I complain to you that I'm drowning.
This is what I wanted.
To be quenched.
But I'm a pyro and I'm making a habit of it.

God bring me a storm and I'll dance in it.
Love, rain once again and I'll get my hair wet.
Because I don't need fire, it's dangerous.
But I love the rain for all its nourishment.
Extended metaphor about two men- one like fire and one like rain.
Madame Eleanor
Written by
Madame Eleanor  IN, United States
(IN, United States)   
824
   Charles Mac, Cecil Miller and SPT
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