Love's Burning Lie
Growling harsh from back they say
Turning souls to ashes she may
I heard the glass split in thousands to tell
The tale of fire, burning hundreds in hell
But the one near the palace on ledge
Holding the candle, light breaking her pledge
For he had the honey wet eyes
Ice cold kiss and mind so wise
She would curl in dark, inflate while he cooks
Grow red while he's frosty and shooks
Burn the pages he hates, build the pot he loves
Keep him warm, he doesn't need those gloves
To see him smile, she would be slow or faster
Only to hear him say "Fire is a good servant, but a bad master"
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