Fuel For The Fire
numi | November 23, 2009Embers of Our Lives

Without love nothing ever inspires me, and in this life desires nothing. Without love I just survive, exist. Without love I have no friend, significant other, or companion in my midst. Whatever happens to me without love it’s all so meaningless. Like the actor who lives his part through fascination, dramatization and a little change of seasons. Pretending at its best.
Every time I step out the door I’m in a gray haze playing on loves highway. Kicking and screaming because of all the rush hour delays. Frustrated to tears, because I just can’t seem to have it my way. Not enough black, not enough white. Without love I can’t tell them apart, do you think I should give up? Out of despair, I might!…
Without love I am more than aware how I became desperate behind the stare. How many of my wrongs can love set for me back right? Love feels much too distant now to implore me to hope, to fight. Although it seems to make its way around once or twice in a life, if you believe in love of this type or sort. At times close enough to tease me for sport, always close enough to weaken my knees and steal away any lingering superficial support.
Loves taste is always on my tongue, yet I can’t take a bite. What romance in the candles glow is left seems found only by some other fortunate gentleman who contrives much less, but like me is relegated to the same noble quest. How I fear my age with no ones heart to hold, no rescue from my solitude vast like the tundra, and my emotions just as cold. It’s certain to me now, by God I’ve been scold. The price I pay for wanton love is the punishment of never growing old…

Fuel For The Fire by Numi is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.














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