love consumes . . .

its fickle flames

which give us warmth

from life's cold winters

also scar . . .

the heat

of lust's desire

descends upon the uninitiated

as a night train

screaming down the auburn sky . . .

true love's smoldering embers

eat up a mind from the inside . . .

the eternal blaze of unrequited love

rages on

as a lion without its cage,

forever free

yet forever enslaved . . .

it is the white flame


which causes the heart

to truly bleed,

and the soul

to awaken to the fact

that never before has one loved

til now . . .

and forever after will the future

be a twilight's garden

where the doe waits

behind twisted thicket

and meandering meadow

for a flame to overtake her . . .