Show Text

You find someone
Who plants
A raging bonfire,
Deep within your gut,
And you transform
Into the kind of devil
That you never were before;
Sometimes, they stay–
And you keep burning
Until you lose your soul;
Yet, most times,
They don’t remain
And that leaves you
With the ashes
Of acheful desires
And irking could-have-beens
Whilst metamorphosing
Into a stone.

Share this page

Leave a Reply