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Poetry by Charles Moffat
Charred memories portrayed in petals. Fiery poison staining my eyes. Bittersweet and full of remorse. Shadows speaking of a different tale. Love letters lost on the tides of fate. The wax and incense of my mind, Burning slowly, memories fading. Undescribable fears scalding my skin. Sins and tears know nothing's about but within. Saltwater brine threatens my cheeks. Fire dances to an Unholy rhythm. We watch, mesmerized, Entranced by the light of romance, And swallowed by the darkness that enfolds us. Bitterness, the invisible thorn of a rose. The bushes are burning. The night is Biblical in proportions. But all that is left, Is the burnt roses.