Burning Papers-love poems

Empty Papers?

She is the warmth of my thoughts,
and when I think of her I burn her,
O' she is the passion of my winters,
and the frost of my summers,

Poems I've written,
burn them with fuels,
though I myself never knew my words,
I am the insane poet you never heard of,
I love you and I hate you,
never read my letters,
Though I myself never knew why I sent them,

I am a lair,
I write for my pleasant,
Not for yours or for her's,
tear my writings apart,
and my soul from it's bones,
I am a lair,
that draws stolen letters,

I never knew love,
and I'll never know you,
burn me and my papers,
read the poems that I never wrote to you,
and wonder,
just wonder,
how I make from the truth lies,
I hate you and I love you,
Never trust me,
O' never do,

I celebrate with the devils,
While dancing with the angels,
I kiss the blessings of heavens,
and sleep with hell's,


I am the judge,
that convicts my victims as murders,
while trapping demons in jails,
I am a man with a thousand souls,
let me love you and hate you,
let me write to you,
and backbite you,
take the middle line they say,
and how can I
if I am haunted with thousand souls?,

No man could ever convict me,
I am a slave for servants,
and an emperor for kings,
I am the waters of fire,
and a blaze for snow,
have you ever heard about me?

I am the owl that haunts in daylights,
and the rabbit that dwell wolves,
I am the conspiracy of histories,
and the soul of the dead,

I am the grey rainbows,
and the colorful skies,
the fish that shores hurricanes,
I am the illiterate writer,
and the insane scientist,

Burn me and my empty papers,
though I love you,
and I hate you,
like a season that never settles,
and a river that bursts.