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Burning Love

If love you

By Moharif YuliantoPublished 2 years ago 2 min read
Burning Love
Photo by Cathal Mac an Bheatha on Unsplash

The flickering flame cast dancing shades,

Across the cabin walls, a haunting charade.

A crumpled news report, a lover's grin,

Burning love's embers, where innocence had been.

Clara, a waitress yearning for a thrill,

Met Thomas, smooth talker, a practiced kill.

Candlelit dinners, weekend escapes,

A web of romance, with hidden shapes.

Subtle hints whispered, a burner phone's chime,

Late-night hushed voices, a flicker of crime.

But love's sweet poison, a powerful blend,

Blinded her senses, a story that would bend.

The headline screamed, a businessman's fall,

Foul play suspected, a chilling pall.

The picture, his face, a charming lie,

The man in her arms, a stranger's eye.

Panic's cold sweat, a knot in her throat,

The hero's embrace, a venomous coat.

Memories twisted, the poems he'd read,

A chilling facade, a heart that had bled.

He entered the cabin, snow clinging to hair,

A weariness etched, a burden to bear.

The newspaper held, a truth laid bare,

Understanding flickered, a silent despair.

"It wasn't what you think," his voice a plea,

"Self-preservation, not meant to be."

Debts, threats, a web of deceit's snare,

A desperate act, a burden to share.

Words hollow and empty, a love's cruel demise,

The sweet nothings vanished, replaced by cold lies.

"Protect yourself from what?" the question arose,

A darkness revealed, where innocence goes.

Hesitation lingered, eyes darting around,

A past unveiled, a horrifying sound.

His story unfolded, a life on the run,

But trust shattered once, forever undone.

Silence descended, heavy and cold,

The illusion of love, a story untold.

A stranger in familiar clothing he stood,

Guilt a bitter cloak, misunderstood.

Rain lashed the roof, mirroring her plight,

The warmth of the cabin, a fading light.

Leaving was hardest, a choice to be made,

This love nest of lies, a betrayal betrayed.

As she walked away, a figure forlorn,

Stood in the doorway, a love newly born.

The police found him, no struggle, no fight,

A silent surrender, a shadowed light.

Guilt lingered, a burden to hold,

The world never knowing, the story untold.

Burning love's embers, a memory's sting,

A lesson etched deep, on hope's fragile wing.

Elegy

About the Creator

Moharif Yulianto

a freelance writer and thesis preparation in his country, youtube content creator, facebook

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  • angela hepworth2 years ago

    Beautiful work!

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