An Elegy Of Desire Poem by The Silhouette

Desire not, tender heart,
Ye, of baser earth make;
A furtive wish or a forlorn sigh,
Do not a very powerful prayer make!

Play not with fire, that threatens to consume,
Recoil, retreat, dare not presume;
The remains of the day, a bleak, grey horizon,
Metamorphing into darkness, the spiralling gloom.

Don again that mask, and muffle your cry,
This parched firmament, look not to the sky;
Hope may be a country, but you dear, an outcast-
Extinguish the candle burning, the fire within - let die..