Fire's smoldering embers.
Suppressed lingering flames.
Burns me deeper,
All again, just the same.
Cuts tear through me,
Relief does flow.
Ripping, gracefully gripping,
The horror that I know.
Eyes so hallow,
The memory does haunt.
The voice of laughter,
Mercilessly will taunt.
Utterance of words spoken,
Where no ear can hear.
All the while hoping,
To hold some warmth near.
Because though the fire burns me,
And the cuts etch my soul,
I am frigid and cold,
My heart's made out of stone.
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