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.

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