Cross – Fire

Meer sketch,

trans vexed,

walking dead.

Bows his head…!!

(by past

scars –

ideology

crushed)

Tall, white,

stemmed

candle bids

his love.

Coos as

a solemn

dove.

Mini tea

light

canniest

be-tween.

Disaster ti’s

seen.

Tea light’s

cants

discern

brightness

more than two

hours a day.

The tall candle

stays bright

whilst it is lit –

never liquefying in

two hours.

Wax flows down

creates a stable

mantle a-round.

Would Est this

tall stem know

defeat…?

As hot, tea light,

liquid

pours o’er

to compete.

Shadowed darkness,

a ghost, can test

see his way.

As the tea light

goes out after

two hours a-gain.

(Ever she

considers herself

the best…!!

She ignores,

snubs, all

the rest.)

Liquid she forms,

when two

hours lit,

creates a

toxic haze.

Ever (he) wonders

is it night or

is it day…?

My boy, you can’t

see pure light o’

display…!!

Heal thyself,

open love’s gate.

To the one that’s lit

night or day…!!

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