Some have said that matches cannot burn twice.
With the right strike, they will combust and burn.
But what if it is not burning they yearn?
Do they wish to be all that you suffice?
Do they wonder if this is what they earn?
Matches just lay silent till the flame’s price.
But, maybe they live consuming fire’s glow?
Maybe they cannot live till they are burnt?
Their existence follows the flame’s current.
They beg for the burn, the life, to be slow.
For both know that no match can be unburnt.
They will burn, turn to ash. We are here though.

My love, with a burning hurt, eyes aflame,
May I be burnt yet still follow your flame?

Set me as a seal upon your heart, As a seal upon your arm; For love is as strong as death, Jealousy as cruel as the grave; Its flames are flames of fire, A most vehement flame.

Songs of Solomon 8:6 NKJV

First sonnet ever (God really surprises me with this poetry stuff), but I changed the formatting of a sonnet just a bit. I pray that you enjoy it. And please, don’t play with fire. Respect it.

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