Hot and Cold
rating: +5+x

Hot inside hot
cold inside cold

The storm begging siren
two fronts stand opposed

But no storm is coming
and still the roil moans

A pot brought to steaming
eyes blearing; down turned

The world that was burning

stood standing there

adrift on a whirling wind

Cold inside hot
hot inside cold

Released to bring balance
and flowing so free

While cold that surrounds
drains lifeblood from thee

Soon brought to a halt
at no whim of your own

The world ever silent

stood standing there

You sigh to yourself and take a bag from your pocket. There isn’t any helping it, you’re doing what has do be done. You slip the bag over your hand like a glove and crouch down. You're thinking:

Oh what joy
Oh what joy
To be out at a time like this
Oh what joy
Oh what joy
Nothing. This.

The bag is safely tied and the stench passes by your nose. You avoid taking a breath, less chance to smell it, you hope. In the moment, a thought lingers: It was so warm. Why was that so strange to you? You look at the bag and start to walk to a bin to throw it away.

now taking flight

clings to any hold

But how meager's the mem’ry
that weathers a storm?

How gentle's the breeze
the follows with dawn?

You stand at the doorstep
once banished; returned

An echo of thundering

now taking flight

to rain upon the night

Hot inside hot
hot inside cold

To mend where the earth ails
to seal the cracks well

The torrent soon buries
all lingering tells

But leaves on the cliff face
in a carving of not

Cold inside hot
hot inside hot

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License