Poemhead

The Same

A lonely state

An open gate

A bell of madding sound

 

A white hot fire

A twisted desire

The place where shell meets ground

 

No love or need

Just a somber plead

Let this troubled heart soar

 

Never give in

To bygone sin

Face them with claw and roar

 

In smoldering ash

Trade your heart for cash

To cast your lovers in

 

Crippled by fear

I tremble here

Never to move again

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