By JH Sayyar
O fleeting flame that dances in the breeze,
Thy warmth near, now cold as winter's sigh,
Thou whisper beneath the swaying trees,
Then vanish swift beneath a clouded sky.
Thine eyes once vowed to never turn away,
Now seek another with a stranger's grace,
Thy promises, like morning dew, decay,
And leave but shadows in a once-lit place.
Yet my heart, though scorched by thy deceit,
Recalls the music of thy gentle tone,
As though the lies were bitter, yet so sweet
A poison that the soul would drink alone
Fickle is love that swears it shall not part,
Yet leaves a ruin carved in a tender heart.
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