The many fires that burn the heart, Revel in the agony and screams of Buried desire, your soul cigarette ash, And all that matters is a man who carried Luck in a black suitcase full of rings made of trash The burnt salt over my palms exposing lines Of fate that I had forgot, Love faded like a Ragged lion cloth once dyed in indigo And desire slipping through the folds of Creased anger dragged over the plains of pure agony Separation puts planets between us, Neptune and the sadly named Venus, Each inch a fucking mile, each moment A rusted nail, digging deeper and deeper in The burrow of my face. A smile held together By plastered guilt Deadly madness takes control and ramblings In sleep become a divine scroll, All burnt, all razed, all rubbed clean Expect for that part of me which is She, of many fires