top of page

Burnt By Cold Fire

Burnt by cold fire

from a witch who steals hearts


She sinks her nails in

and claws out the beating love


Her fangs reflect the pale moon,

as she devours another soul


Blood drips down her chin,

and onto mother nature's face


A pool of blood,

like the pupil of the all seeing eye


She steps on it with her black boots

and howls at the moon


Burnt

to a crisp

by her cold fire

Alive no longer,

but something stirring,

something stronger…


I have fangs too,

you damn witch,

and I am a man

with a black hole for a soul–

thanks to you


I’m a dangerous beast

A coward ready to be unleashed

A hyena backed into a corner

A scorpion behind bedroom eyes

A weaver of stories and lies

and I hardly try.



There’s no end to the pettiness of a soulless,

hopeless,

malicious

man


The Scorpion vs The Witch,


what a fight we could have.


We could sell tickets

and give the masses

another distraction

to distract them

from their distractions


They love a good fight,

especially

one with love,

blood,

and a cold fire.


They’ll scream and cheer,

as we rip each other apart.





Then,

after we’ve gotten in our licks,

and let the madness of the crowd rage,


we’ll piece each other


together.


-C.H.

5 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

They say that I have a hard face And that I am guarded They say that I am rough around the edges They say I have opinions And that I am a little different They tell me that I am difficult And that my

I have one friend Who is jealous of my single life With all my dates and stories But he Has a good job And a good wife And a good home And a good daughter And a son on the way He doesn’t see it But I

There’s a poetry night coming up here in a few days But my hands are too shaky to write And my body is too broken to fight My mind is too wild to sit still And my will fell ill awhile ago And the ego

Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page