That burning image will forever haunt
My mind: within—beyond—my promised land,
Despite my fears, there’s nothing else I want.
—
I think it’s meant to grab my hate, to taunt
My urge to see why all alone it stands.
That burning image will forever haunt
—
My love. She comes to me (yet strangely gaunt)
And bears a gift clenched hard within her hand.
Despite my fears, there’s nothing else I want
—
But what she grips; too innocent to daunt
Me now. I swoon to feel my mind expand
That burning image. Will Forever haunt
—
Me as I rush towards my end? A jaunt
Disrupts; the plants disperse: all turned to sand.
Despite my fears, there’s nothing else I want
—
But this new choice. We erred and sinned to flaunt
Our free will. Though—I’m now alone with her and—
That burning image will forever haunt
Despite my fears—there’s nothing else I want.
