The water scorches my skin.
I am sat on the floor of my shower for the umpteenth night in a row.
This water is too hot,
But I cannot muster the energy to turn it down;
(At least it feels like something, even pain)
I haven't looked away from the floor for ten minutes,
This patch of tile is burned into my memory.
The water is still too hot,
And I still have not turned it down.
The empty pit in my chest throbs cold.
I want to set a fire there but fire doesnt burn where there is no oxygen;
Only hell could fix this.
The water runs hotter than the blood in my veins.
I don't think I will turn it down.
Why wait for hell when I can burn here?

There's an artistic sensuality to what she does luring with the eyes and capturing with the body, each motion a painters stroke on a master piece she is a master of her craft both artist and art. She will burn you to the core and bring forth your rebirth from the ashes, she is a phoenix she is a goddess, she is perfectly imperfect

Will you - your sun's inferno burning bright,
Your radiance demanding all the sky -
Reach down a blessed fingertip, tonight?
Will hands know how to meet as you and I
Lock eyes and blind each other with our light?
Let darkness fall. Burn me, your firefly.
The gods will have the sacraments they claim.
These words, an offering, burn just the same.

And will you turn your moonlit face from me?
Will midnight mystery reclaim your smile,
As silver starlight fades to reverie
Until the sky hangs empty, mile for mile?
If I must spend my sight, myself, to see,
At least we burn with your exclusive style.
What shades of you remain are paradise -
A shame I won't bear witness to you twice.

The long walks along the green meadows of Wastorwan ...
The long spiel of old man at sward..
The blooming tulips at foothills of Zabarwan
My soul forage whereabouts???
The days catching the stars along the Empyrean ...
The days making clay castles
My soul forage Whereabouts ???
The flames of hot Nunchai,
From the Konforka of Samovar,
Once laden on the old woman's Head
ALL NOW BURIED AND DEAD!!!!!
The Whizz after butterflies,
The chords of Gazals,
No more Heart Enthrall,
As all dark and grey !!
Still Here I Lay !!!!
Still Here I Lay !!!!
In the country of Dead
Where everything seems Red
Where everything seems Red

Tell me about the wicked witch of the west,

Tell me about her black pointy hat,

Her black screeching cat.

The night she flew thru the sky,

The night she touched the stars and danced for the moon,

Her dance a gift and a goodbye.

Tell me more about the wicked witch of the west,

Tell me about her auburn hair as it turned to dust,

Her angel voice, her last scream through the air it ******,

Tell me about her godly form in the flame, her last words whispered

A deep cut through our chest.

Tell me more about my sister,

Tell me about the Wicked Witch of the West.