She was dancing in a burning house,
Wasting away all material,
Running from the flames that scorned her,
For what she thought she would gain was imperial.
Slow dancing to the beat of her burning house,
Silently praising the flames, bright red,
Praying to her Father for mercy,
Praying to her Fire to burn her world dead.
Leave the dancing of your burning house,
Come into the light of the ever-bright Son,
For your soul, he shall cleanse, when your body is gone,
And like a phoenix, you once again arise as one.
Who needs to dance in a burning house,
When the glowing light from above burns brighter?
So walk away from the dancing of the burning house,
That blocks you from knowing what's much lighter.
For she was dancing to the beat of her burning house,
Praying not that He would save her house from the fire,
But that He would save her from her house,
And ever did he answer to her desire.
YOU ARE READING
Deepest Afflictions to Random Speculations
PoetrySometimes We cry Sometimes We laugh Sometimes It's one of the same thing Warning: may contain strong language, adult themes, and an unnecessary amount of "extra".
