writing

Risks

You were the ocean,

And I was the shore,

And with each crashing wave,

All I craved was you more.

 

You were the embers,

And I was the trees.

All I would ever desire,

Promised the ending of me.

 

You were the lava,

And I in your path,

Would do anything to be,

Scorched by your wrath.

 

My being in your hands,

My heart dangling off my sleeve,

In the end, I would find out,

If I was truly fearless or naïve.

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