I used to think this place was magic,
The sparks it created,
The lighthearted feel of somewhere in the middle of industrialization,
So tranquil.
Now it just feels empty,
Or worse,
Blackened by the past,
And every time I visit,
I hope to cleanse it,
But the silence runs too deep.
So each visit reminds me of once upon a time,
Where magic thrived,
And a Love so powerful bloomed,
Who knew the fires of passion would only burn it down,
Blacken the ground,
And char the trees.
Yet the stream still flows through,
And the memories with it.
Once this place was called Narina,
Now I don't know if it holds that same mythic fantasy,
Or is just another setting for nightmares to occur.
YOU ARE READING
Burning Love
PoetrySo this always growing collection of poems is about how love can be one of the most complex emotions to understand, and how it can affect people (mostly me though). In these little blips of writing I share vague but personal feelings and experiences...
