In vehement vexing, 

   of insomnia and drowsiness

Between love and rejection, and pangs of pain

The fire of longing rages, burns my feet

Unlike the phoenix, there is no rise

Only a crumbling, to ashes

 But in a slow rumbling song

   Of taunting my self, 

     In loving beyond

The waters of my past cannot douse

For they are now just tears

That only seem to feed

 This caricature I have painted me into