The fire that raged inside me,
have been dazzled with succulent rain.
Leaving nothing but small camp fires,
compared to the wildfire,
that blazed through my mind,
as late as last summer.
I don’t know if I’m a beast,
tamed by the beauty,
of the tranquil maiden.
Or a broken dog,
a hound with no fight left in it.
And I’m not sure,
that I would like to know,
because if this is just me,
being spellbound,
then I fear what would happen,
should the magic run out.