Of Desire

Dark and red and burning within

much too mellow for any fire

utterly chaotic yet peacefully at ease

melancholy taking it higher

proud of the void within

yet coy of the latent ire

the stranger at the gates

is beckoning to draw my desire

Clawing my way at every find

I'm holding on to the last drawn line

and you too are a part of that pagination

capillary threads blurring in indecision

Don't draw conclusions in haste

I too am a product of confusions

I live to be projected and not withdrawn

so take my hand and taste the dawn

Amongst my score who condemns and abhor

who turn up in numbers everyday ever more

I take not pity and I draw no relief

to a world that lives to conspire

Looking within I see down deep

there is all but a desire

Smoke and fire both delight

when it rages it fills my sight

a sudden passion too pure

of not wanting anything anymore

And if that is confusion

then so be my taste

Ill-ridden and confounded

I no longer live to appraise

or hold down what I feel

Dire be my need

but there's no dowsing this fire...