when you can’t tell the difference
between clouds and smoke
peaceful heavens or
an eventual choke
when you can’t feel the flicker
of an endless delight
or the flames of a love
no longer in sight.
calloused hands of a brooding man
holding tight to his fear-filled plan
how he kept her heart close
by the rope of his desires
the friction of selfish dwelling
set summer’s glow afire.
his fists were now sore
she could love him no more.
he again, a martyr of love
for her to adore.