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Fiery Lover
I watch a candle burns
Its fire was quietly molded
And the wind was the artist.
The fire forms into a rose
I touch the candle’s fire
I felt the fire pushes me away
Contrary from what it shows
Its looks deceives me, totally
The wind blew the candle
The fire struggle to stay
The wind pushes it away
Its beauty vanishes instantly
If only it was not hot
It would be in my hands
I would have mold
A beauty impossible to hold
It had trusted the wind
Only wind was able to touch
I was forbidden to hold
All I can do is to watch
If only it had trusted me
It would be a different story
I had offered my hands
Though I know it’ll be burned
My hand’s not soft as a wind
It’s not as tender at it seems
But at least my hands
Are connected to a heart
poem
by
John Anthony Maligro
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