Time you are a fickle beast.
Life you are a short-
cake, too quickly swallowed.
Tick, tick, away of my tomorrows,
Long hand, short.
No sugar to sweeten my heart’s sorrows.
No seasons to mix,
As I struggle to warm this cool stove,
And leave barren leaves undressed,
Like this naked soul,
And hopeless dreams lacking zest.
But, who are you, who whisks breath into my flattened chest?
And stirs life into my hidden desires?
One flame was all I required.
One flame will suffice.
Until I light my own paths
And spark my own fire.