GRIT

He's dangerous like a raging wildfire.

Out of control and careless

-not in the exciting way.

Reckless with my heart, his words, his hands.

Perpetually deceptive;

as natural as the clouds pouring rain.

Abusive with his intent and manipulated promises.

He wears a mockery of concern

upon his blistered, washed up mouth.

God of tearing her down to build his shitty empire.

The one that crumbles simply

because he's so weak.

Weak of heart, of mind, of self-control.

Talent overshadowed by malice,

heart blackened by the soot

falling from his lungs.

Thinking he's a king,

captain of his ship.

Just an old bag of bones,

waiting to die worthless and alone

like his father.