Shango

I still can't stop myself from it,
Tracing through the pictures of us,
The smiles we flashed to each other,
The sparks that flew with such intensity.
I find it hard to believe that I could
Have choked the fire to its death.
I was once a passing gale, fierce
And cold in my disposition,
Until I saw you there, a shining beacon.

My depthless curiosity drew me closer,
Your lips pressed so tightly on mine
Drove me to near endless heights-
I soared further into the ozone,
Until I hit viciously upon the glass ceiling.
My back now broken, I plummeted into hell.
The spark I had held so dear to me
Was nowhere to be found,
A raging fire of determination all its own,
That dear ember burned me up inside.

But the flames of hell
Hold their own ambition-
Promises of power so divine,
And I will be born again.
Scorched and charred by you,
I cannot forget what we shared.
I will enter a pact with despised Hades,
Crush the ceiling with my own fist,
And return
Screamingly furious,
A typhoon of rage and purpose
To scrape the firmament of creation,
So high on the promise of myself.

To tempt
You, dear spark,
With that which you can never reach.