We're all afraid of playing with fire,
But if we never touched the flame,
How would we ever feel,
Ever taste, ever know -
The power, so strong;
To have truly lived,
If only for that brief moment.
I thought we'd moved the playground,
With the prancing flames, over here;
Where no one sees through,
Where no eye knows us -
But the grounds have become,
An incinerator, it's purpose
Is to burn all our memories to ashes.
Copyright © 2016 thearcticstar
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