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'Love is playing with fire'
Words that walked the embers of time,
Saving an incense under the smoke
Of ashes, scars, tears and pain.
Indeed, love is playing with with fire.
Fire, raising a home and hearth.
Fire, resurrecting light in the dark.
Fire, rendering warmth in inviable coldness.
Fire, the rampart for the weak in the wild.
Yet the inevitable possibility of raging flames
lingers envyingly in the unlit corners.
Indeed, love is playing with fire,
But brave souls choose light over dark.
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Cottage Chronicles
PoetryLife's chronicles from love, sorrow, anger, guilt, shame, happiness buried in a poetic cipher. Would you like some words and wine, on wooden floorboards? ©️ Feronia Grey
