Find me a spark that will set me on fire.
I want that deep down immolating lust
Like living light bursting from our desire
Until we spontaneously combust.
I know that you're ready. I see you're soaked
Through with accelerants, prepared to burn.
Your meticulous architecture choked
With anticipation of all you yearn
For being unleashed, causing your collapse.
What will it feel like to be so consumed?
Agony? Ecstasy? Or both, perhaps?
So let's light a match and call ourselves doomed.
We'll create something we cannot contain.
And when we're done, only embers remain.