Haunted by the dreams fire…burnt by passion and desire. Lust reveals its truest self in the moment of the nights final hour. Scorned, as dust forms beneath the feet of the ones fighting their own hearts. Spilt not blood from their pounding wounds, but spilt from thee is ash and soot. Where the fire waves its hands into the cool air…awoken is thee from his painful, yet seducing dream. “Was it real, my dream?”…says the one in despair. “Were we both there?” As the new sun has awoken he. “As real as real can be”…answers his heart, as the fire within him still burns. It’s the yearn and the burn, which is the satisfying pain within…it’s LOVE that makes ones heart catch flame. It’s that forbidden love. It’s that forever fire inside that still remains. It’s that truest love…a fire, which will never dim.