The Fires of Sympathy

I walk in through the door,

Drenched in sweat and rain,

And there you are

With your sympathetic eyes

Waiting for me.

I look to you

And see that flaming torch of pity

Its tongue licking through the air

Setting fire to everything about my life.

It burns a hole through my picture

Singes my work,

Blackens my life.

Yet its warmth dries my skin,

Allowing comfort to settle once more,

But that flame of sympathy,

Oh it does not just vanquish the rain,

No,

It scorches the soul,

That gentle warmth that comforts,

Now burns me at the stake.

Chars my heart

Until it is nothing but a shriveled lump.

For that flame of saffron,

That blazing fire of sympathy,

Is nothing but the fires of Hell,

I look into your sympathetic eyes,

And watch as the flame falters in its step,

Watch as the wind from my own eyes.

My eyes of hatred,

Blow your candle of pity out.