They tell me to light the flame inside,
When it’s the reason I run and hide.
Much like the force of a rushing tide.
Forceful pleasure leads to forceful pain
Leaving upon the soul a stain
One of colors red and black,
Of a time never to be brought back.
The flame burns bright
Though sometimes only a candlelight.
We all face our fears in time
For peace, we all must fight.
We could run and hide,
But we should light the flame inside.
Because even the tide gets weary sometimes.

Traces of pawprints align and accumulate amongst the snow
The dusk casts the dawn away and tended their corpse
A vicious sound emanating, rusing the serenity of the twilight

"Papa, will you be home tonight?"
"Will you be carrying the candles again?"
"Will you stay with us tonight?"

Perpending echoes of the penumbra when the moon,
obscures, the darkened ceiling.

Slits of dim candlelight seep past the surface, a ****** demise
Crimson seeping, bubbled wine, creasing the remnants of the promise
My dearest, sweetest, purest child,
Amongst the veils of fireflies, the canids prowl through the streets
A deceitful parade amongst the illusion exposed,
The peaceful tracts are no more - I was struck.

The canids howl a sonorous melody, riveting, disconcerting harmonies
On the brink of the dying night, in a universe we brought so forth

The lingering of the slivers of silver shining,
the paradox of incongruent paths intertwining,
For each flame ceases in a communal suicide, the wolves stalk the solemn night.
The philosophy that was taught for generations and beyond,
It existed no more.

Beyond the blanket of hope and comfort, the warm amber rises
Stroking the pack, exuviating their hollow molt.

I was stranded here, on the island of scarlet
Roses floundering, thousands of rotten corpses
Fragrant luscious decadence, like candy to efflorescence
Floundering petals in hues of auburn and gold
Diluting to pallid gore.

"I will be home tonight"
"Smiling amongst the candlelight"
"For your dearest smile I recollected..."

"... and bled out once more"

Sharing is caring. Sharing love is daring. So is staring into the eyes of the one you love. Blaring heartbeat, whether girls or guys, below or above the thighs determines lust or love. Either way gets you high flying like a dove when I try to contemplate whether it's lie or love. Love repeated and used to rhyme with itself, cause each love is different, like you're a **** or ****, or no mom or no dad, no parents to teach you about the love you never had, here comes the guilt, tho you did nothing bad, the word "sorry" was spilt, out the mouth now I'm mad, put my mind at a tilt... confusion. Anxious love intrusion, I can feel our bodies fusing, must be looking for a bruising, she really had that clever rusing, smoked a blunt, then I'm puking, hole in one, not trying punt, so she's accusing me of cheating, like I would see someone else, while shes bleeding cause she fell, so deep in love, and always needing, a push or a shove, so there's receding instead of a clingy human melting onto me, is this really love?