CRIMES ON PASSION
The flames engulf me like leaves on the forest floor
The passion fills me as the words hang in my throat
There is no one else but my pride holds me back
The war rages inside as I find an easier way
We can never be and the light seems to dim.
The taste of disappointment is continuous
The guilt is strangling with no relief
Visions of love are replaced with dying doves
My heart is no more than a hollow stone
There is no hope in the eyes of the dead.