Unignited Love

“The smoke of their torment ascendeth up for ever and for ever”

Ghazals have been around as long as fire

Has filled the hearts, the arteries and veins

Of men with fragrances of male desire,

The smoke of torment rising from their pains

In purgatories caused by those men love.

The fumes of torment billow and ascend.

The objects of these pangs, unworthy of

The passions spilled, don’t try to condescend

To mercy.  They just go about their lives

Without the adoration sticking to

Their hair like smoke from fags.  Magicians’ knives

Fly past the mark not deadly like the yew.

  The objects wait unscathed.  They do not care.

    The burning ones are left to their despair.

~ Phillip Whidden

by phillipw | Sep 5, 2024 | UN | 0 comments