Fury Poem by Tiffanie Lein

Like hallowed sounds and voices lost
In silent, seething ire.
Wither to reel back of accost,
This wild and raging fire?

Caught between not knowing if
The flames a bitter cold
Or if i took a look beneath
I'd find it hard as gold.

What to do then, I know not
Once quaint, now void of charm:
Creeping closer, burning hot,
Orange licks my palm.

Swelling, eager, yet not as strong
As my heart and faith could lead;
Compelling force could wreck my song
And leave me here to bleed.

And so I turn to look away;
Pray Jove keep the fiend at bay.