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"