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12.2.22 - Blog Posts

3 years ago

A fire raging inside,

boils the liquid red in me,

vapours of which,

condense as tears in the eyes.

And you say I'm weak

when i cry.

You're naïve, you don't know.

The drops of greif are mortal,

but the tears burnt

are the Flames at rest,

pouring from the brink of heaven,

into hell.

They are power, they are anger,

they give the purpose

to the machine immortal

that rages to live on and on,

burning the rocks ,to ashes.

-mauli


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