I’ll stand by you, blazing on fire-
the inferno never fails to please.
I’ll stand above you on my pyre-
staring you down with cold ease.

I know it was you who sent me here.
You watch me burn, though you wrack in fear.
Perhaps you know, that these flames will only kiss,
With me, nature has simply gone amiss.

Perhaps you know to what lengths I will go,
to stain red - your skin, that’s white as snow.
Maybe that’s why you quake and shake with unease.
But later, you’ll be dying, crouched bleeding on your knees.

The flames eventually die, and of course my face lies.
A stone mask of death, you’re so close I smell your breath.
it’s creeping along my cheek, with a strength so meek,
just like your blood, that from your throat will flood.

Original poetry, @ Aesop.Tumblr.Com