Zainabasim06The Burning Desire:
A lonely man draws fraudulent realities to quiver that soul so weak.
He sculpts his desire with the unwavering intention that is seemingly bleak.
His bruised heart resting in his lap as he tries to coax it to accept the new he;
Those facial muscles must be taut and brooding his gaze must be.
“This might fix me”, he said in a tone so lifeless and caged.
A sharp ache caught his core in a hundred different flames;
The arson he nurtured was surely ablaze.
And so the past he held in his non-dominant hand pleaded to return the old order, and calm the mayhem at state.
But he let his flesh melt away and fate engulf him-the only thing he thought was worth the wait.
The painting turned out exactly as he imagined: beautiful and doomed, struck by lighting and a curse too.
By:
Zainab Asim