Working Fire at a Mill

The fire’s licking tongues
Cast whispers without tune
And they’ve caught me in the darkness
Where the garish marks that make me beautiful
Flicker into some cloudy depths
Of half-melted music poetry
And run rivers through the truth

The licking flames are breathing me
They are shaping me anew
And so my ashes, they are dusky,
Just like all other blown wishes
Caught by clouds and shot down by rain
But the fire only breeds in darkness
And I’ve fallen too far into light

If this is what I have become
(two hands cradling my melting head)
Then can you please just re-scar me
And send me off into the depths of darkness,
The licking fire play of passion
And I’ll relive you once again


i'm aware that i'm slightly...er....not in my right mind right now, due to certain...medications and sickness, so please forgive me of that if this comes off as...not making any sense. because the world barely makes sense to me right now.)

Heh, I could write like this when I was in the hospital, and before when I was on medication. I liked this, of course, you're like becoming one of my increasingly favourite poets on the site.

Nice job though

"Then can you please just re-scar me
And send me off into the depths of darkness, "

My favourite part

that's amazing i like the verse The fire’s licking tongues
Cast whispers without tune
And they’ve caught me in the darkness
Where the garish marks that make me beautiful
Flicker into some cloudy depths
Of half-melted music poetry
And run rivers through the truth that's good