The Face of Fire

Burying the Calm Within,
Embracing the Furious Heat,
With a Reputation of Anger,
Nowhere Close to Neat,
The Fire Fights Within
To Save His Face.

Wrestling the Reputation
Of The Furious One,
The One Where None Can Seek Comfort,
None Can Seek a Shoulder to Rest,
The Face of Fire Wrapped In Unrest,
Punches the Wind That Surrounds
To Fuel Its Burns As It Twists, It Turns,
And It Churns All That’s Around
With Every Trick That Could Be Found,
To Show the Watery Facet, the Tiny One,
That is Hidden Layers Beneath.
The Face of Fire Cries,
In The Quest of the Place
To Be a Comforter, To Be the Shoulder.

It Fails.
Its Tear Fails Too.
It Cannot Roll
As it Evaporates
The Instant it Even Thinks of
Making its Way
Through The Searing Heat
And The Clouds of Smoke.
With The Steam of The Tear,
The Stress Would Just Pile.
And The Face of Fire Would Lose
At Every Attempt of Smile.


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