Fire # 2


Unquenched, the fire-demon fills my bones
with burning, raw desire: a starving dream
projected on the night, a lonely moan

across the winter's ridge. The last resort
of sanity is stalked as cruel fangs
with amber eye-slits come on velvet paws

to get my blood. They'll only flee before
the smouldering passion's conflagration, wild
and all-consuming fire that flares to leave

its fertile ashes on the hungry soil –
it would take just one spark; the wood is dry
and waiting, frigid safety's restraint

has still not choked the waiting firewood white
but since the fire's too low the wolfpack's howl
of cold despair is at the door all night.

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bydemure101© 3 comments/ 2132 views/ 0 favorites

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