My secret love burned but
my love is no secret
my countenance exposes
other-worldly roses
but she was only flattered
whilst I was enamored
Lovelorn as if I had been
born to burn inside for
the rest of my days
Torn by desires to fulfill
an unceasing fire or
simply get away
Limbo, my final abode
if I stayed on that road
Happy was she, to keep me
romantically hopeless, a
personal Sisyphus
I was sick of this
Her stare turned into frost
my flames did not exhaust
she was forever lost
fervor grew only higher
inferno absent of pyre
I was about to expire
Months, my mind and body waned
to others, I was insane
I kept on praying
Then one hopeless afternoon
like the harrowing of hell
my soul, did swell
Jonah 2:2 “And said, I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the LORD, and he heard me; out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heardest my voice.”
THE EXILE OBSERVER 