Banal words fan the coals in my chest;
Embers that itch to parch drying earth.
Banal words fan my reddening ashes.
And now, a mist of grey has arisen.
To cloud sight and sound judgment.
An itch in throat saves none,
For only angry words struggle to burst.
And even the chilling dew of new love can’t quench this thirst.

You shatter your own ivory.
And now, it’s cut me deep.
You’ve scalded me from your heart burning cold.
Cannot innocent tears
quench these flames that bespoke fury?
Come, rest head in the depths of my bosom.
And think not the things of the former.
Come, let’s pour ash on glowing embers.
Let them rest to burn anew.

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