There are thousand ways to love a woman,
There are hundred ways to rise a goodness,
There are no ways to submit darkness,
No surprise, Shobo! We survived those cages,
At last, everything fades and care remains.
Deathra, you asked once why stay when it hurts,
I can answer now as she stays for time to reside,
She makes the pain seems small to breathe.
Miss! Yes, lord, I call her,
Knowing she would come, wearing the purple,
Let’s not go further inside me,
I suffer. I will suffer. I will rise in her presence.
I tell you, Deathra,
Miss, she knows how ice turns fire.© sjwordsmith
She Knows How Ice Turns Fire | Poem