Don't play with fire', I've always heard,
From everyone that I have known.
But I just thought they were absurd,
And could not leave that fire alone.
So every day with noone around I'd play with fire -
I could not seem to get enough -
And seemed to have this strange desire
To set on fire all kinds of stuff.
It all began when I was young.
I watched as candle flames would dance.
They called to me - those blazing tounges -
And soon, I'd fall into a trance.
A hundred candles burning bright -
Enticing me to light some more.
They set my room ablaze one night,
And burned the house down to the floor.
I felt no torment for this deed;
Instead, excitement filled my soul.
The sight of flames was such a need,
The sight of something burning brings
A pleasure few have understood.
Then came the day that I was caught -
So now I'm locked here in the pen -
But still, I feel this strange desire.
So soon, I will be free again,
When I have set this heart on fire.
I'm not trying 2 b a sadist or anything here......
2 comments:
I could get what you really mean here... It's a nice poem. I am surprised to see that I am the first person to comment for it.
Charon..I do this for Charon!
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