Burning On
My ache licks like a furnace, Silent Spark
For you have further prolonged my patience;
Building on the weak to perturb the dark,
To surrender selfish sense of silence;
Your silence, an incision to the heart,
Angers that which disappears out of sight,
That mocks life, to its desolate ill part;
Cowers me out, so far-sight may ignite.
Bright am I now, lost into void and woe,
A panic fire orb which hath poured;
My speech and my prudence still lacketh flow,
Blackened from all heat sorely abhorred
Oh, I do light thee well as I may try
For you I burn on, till the day I die
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
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